Forced Mutations 3
by Jaenelle Angelline
Summary: Several factions scramble to get their hands on the last remaining sample of Amanda's virus. FINISHED. Read 'Forced Mutations' and 'Forced Mutations 2' before reading this one, thank you! Read, review please!
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1:

                Hank opened the door to the bedroom and held it open as Amanda walked in, carrying her suitcases. "As wonderful as Hawaii was, Hank, I have to say it's great to be home," She put the bags she was carrying down and planted a kiss on his lips, smiling. He kissed her back, with equal fervor, and then they turned to look into the room.

                Their friends had been busy while they were gone. Hank grinned as he took in their new room. Thy had done to his and Amanda's adjoining rooms what they had done to Jean and Scott's rooms when they got married; brought all of Amanda's furniture into Hank's room, excepting the bed. Amanda would be sharing Hank's from now on.

                She grinned at Hank. "It was nice of everyone to do this while we were gone; I wasn't really looking forward to lugging all my stuff in here."

                They started to unpack. Amanda pulled their laundry baskets from the corner, dumped all the dirty laundry into it, and set them aside as they unpacked the rest of their things.

                There was a soft knock at the door, and Amanda turned. Jean and Betsy stood in the door, holding their laundry baskets. "We're about to go do the laundry," Jean grinned. "Are you coming? We want to hear all about your honeymoon!"

                As Amanda spluttered, Betsy grinned. "Hey, we heard all about Jubilee's and Jean's. Welcome to the mansion."

                Amanda laughed. "We do have a lot," she said to Hank.

                Hank grinned. "If that was your way of asking me to finish here, then yes, I shall do so before the girls die of impatience." He kissed her briefly but warmly on her cheek, and then she gathered the laundry basket and left with the other two women.

                "So hey, here's the honeymoon girl!" Jubilee sang out as she dumped her laundry in the washer and measured out the detergent. "How was it, Amanda? Come on, tell us every disgustingly sappy, romantic detail." She flung herself into a chair as Amanda put her basket on the table and grabbed its mate from the corner. 

"I'm not sure I should tell you," she said demurely, sorting the white clothes into the second basket. "Shouldn't the details of one's honeymoon be private?"

                "Should, but isn't," said the younger girl cheerfully, taking a drink from her soda and grabbing a pretzel. "So come on, tell!"

                Amanda hedged and fudged, driving the younger girl crazy, until she finished sorting the laundry, then went to the fridge in the corner, selected a bottle of water, and then sat down. "It was wonderful," she said at last. "Waikiki was so pretty. Sun, sand, warm breezes, and oh, all that water! So clear I could actually see the fish swimming in it. We got there last Saturday evening, and went to our room. Got unpacked, and then I couldn't resist; I wanted to go swimming on the beach in the dark, so Hank came with me. No one was around, and we had total privacy. So we went swimming, and then went up to the room. We had room service bring in dinner, and we watched TV until we went to bed. When we woke up, we…"

                "Hold it," Jubilee said, bringing her feet down off the table to the floor with a thump. "You're leaving out the most important parts! I bet you guys had sex on the beach, right? What was it like?"

                "Jubilee!" Amanda pretended to look shocked. "Like I would be so imprudent as to reveal the intimate details to you!"

                The other women laughed as Jubilee begged and Amanda resisted. Finally, Amanda giggled too, and said, "All right, all right! Yes, we made love on the beach. It was really weird, being out there on the sand and having the water washing around us while we lay there, but it felt good."

                "And what was the sex like?" Jubilee was almost hopping up and down in her chair.

                "Shameless, aren't you," Amanda teased the younger girl, but sighed. "Hank is….I really can't describe him. I've never made love to anyone quite like him… and no one's ever made love to me like that, either. My first husband was fast…too fast…and Bruce, well…" she sighed. "He was just rough. I didn't like that. Hank is slow and gentle, probably because he's so…built…and he's so afraid of hurting me." She saw Jubilee's expression, and grinned. "Well, he's quite large, physically. And believe me, all of him matches. There's nothing small about my husband." She sighed, and sat back. "I can't believe he's my husband. It's so wonderful to be able to call him that."

                "It is, isn't it." Jean, Jubilee, and Amanda exchanged glances and smiles.

                "So what did you guys do after you had sex on the beach?"

                Amanda smiled. "We had prime rib for dinner, and a glass of champagne. Then we went to bed. I had gotten this little white lace teddy and matching sheer robe for my trousseau; he definitely liked it. It didn't stay on me long." She grinned. "And we made love again twice that night; and then in the bath the next morning…ohh, they had just the best hot tubs there, they were so big I could almost swim in them…and the little swirls of water were wonderful, they tickled, but it was kind of nice…" she grinned delightedly. "And then we went sightseeing. Hank wanted to take photos and look around in the volcanic caves; and I wanted to take samples of the flora and fauna around some of the more exotic hot springs and vents around the volcanoes…" She stopped, because Jean and Betsy were shaking their heads. "What?"

                "You two are two of a kind," Jean shook her head harder, though her smile was warm. "Couldn't you two just forget about the 'scientific ramifications' of the island and just enjoy the honeymoon?"

                "We enjoyed it fine," Amanda said. "And Hank's dedication is one of the things I love about him." She got up to put her clothes in the washer as Betsy got up to load the dryer. Under cover of the noise, Betsy said, "You'd have a lot better idea of his dedication if you and he started a family."

                Amanda sighed as they went back to the table. "I will admit I had kind of thought about having kids. I mean, I'm thirty-two. If I don't have them soon I may not have them ever. And I always did want children."

                "So does he," Jean said unexpectedly. "Back in the old days, when there was only the five of us, Hank, Bobby, Scott, Warren, and I were sitting there talking about where we wanted to be in ten years. Hank said he wished he could find a good woman, settle down, and get married, and then he said he'd love to have kids. Three of them."

                "Really?" Amanda said, eyebrows raised. "He said he'd leave kids up to me…or not. 'Whatever I wanted', he said; he'd be fine with whatever I chose."

                "Hank's worried," Jubilee said unexpectedly. "He didn't say anything to me, but I've caught him several times looking at your bioscans. Hank's worried because you're so small, and he's so large, you might have a problem carrying any child fathered by him if it had his gene for large frames."

                "Is that it?' Amanda frowned. "I actually hadn't thought about it. The child will be a mutant; since Hank is one, but his original form wasn't big, blue, and furry; it was just an extra-large physique. I did talk to my doctor about it when I went for my physical just before we left; he said I shouldn't have any problems as long as I take it easy."

                "Have you talked about it with him?" Jean asked.

                Amanda shook her head. "Not yet. I was planning on it, but I wasn't sure he wanted them."

                "What about you?" Ororo spoke for the first time. "What would you want to do?"

                Amanda sat back in her chair, turning her water around in her hands. "I do want kinds, " she said after a long pause for thought. "I want to have at least two. Just thinking about the good times I had with my sister…And I know I wouldn't have a shortage of babysitters." She smiled at the wry look Jean gave her. "Al right, I think I will talk to him about it."

                "Today?" Rogue jumped on her.

                "Soon," Amanda said with a smile. The conversation returned to the honeymoon.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                "Hey, here comes the dead man walking!" Warren and Bobby both chorused as Hank came down the stairs to the kitchen.

                Scott turned away from the stove where he was seasoning the roast. "Ignore them, Hank," he said. "They just don't know what they're missing."

                "Indeed," Hank sat down in the kitchen chair Logan pulled out for him. "So how have things been in our absence?"

                "Our! Listen to that, he's talking like an old married man already!" Bobby snickered.

                He didn't get any further than that, because Logan was looking up at him with an evil smile over a handful of raw eggs. "Care ta open ya mouth again, Popsicle?"

                Bobby looked at the handful of eggs, at Logan's smile, and more importantly at the gold wedding band around Logan's finger. "Uh, nope," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. Logan lowered the handful of eggs with a last look and went on peeling the hard-boiled ones he had just taken from the pot over the stove.

                Scott said into the silence, 'So how was the honeymoon, Hank?"

                Hank smiled as a faraway look came into his eyes. Bobby started to snicker again, caught Logan's eye, and assumed a poker face as he waited to hear Hank's answer. "It was wonderful, "Hank said, oblivious to the banter going on between Logan and Bobby. "Amanda is everything I ever dreamed of finding in a woman. I wonder how Bruce could take what she offered and throw it back into her face like that."

                "He just wasn' capable o' 'preciatin' what he got," Remy spoke from across the table where he was sitting with a beer in his hand. "Least you are, Hank. So what was she like?"

                Hank gave him a look of unimpeachable dignity. "I would not offend my wife by recounting the private details of our personal time," he said, but his eyes twinkled. "Suffice it to say that she is a very….enthusiastic… bed partner."

                Scott smiled. "Jean says Amanda says you're built," he said with a briefly-unfocused look in his eyes that usually meant he was communicating telepathically with Jean. "And…oh, Hank, they're trying to turn your life around on its ears, because I hear the word 'children' being bandied about down there."

                "I would not mind," Hank said, unruffled, getting up and going over to the refrigerator for a beer. "Amanda touched on the subject briefly during our sojourn in Hawaii, and I told her it was up to her. Personally, I am hoping she will say yes; I have always wanted children…but she has been through so much in the last year, and it will take her some time to fully recover from such an ordeal. And she is already in her thirties; I believe I read somewhere that pregnancies for women in their mid thirties come with complications. I would not want to endanger her life for any child I might want. It must be her choice." He turned to Logan. "Jubilee is twenty-five; has she said anything about desiring offspring?"

                "Yeah, we figure we'll give it a shot in a few more years or so," Logan said easily, carefully not looking at Bobby's startled look. "Not just yet. I could live forever, fer all we know; an' Jubes still has a bit o' time left. Her biological clock ain't tickin' loud enough fer her ta hear it yet." He grinned at Scott's back. "Since we're discussin' it, how 'bout Jean?"

                "It will happen eventually," Scott said. "Jean and I are already trying. After all, Rachel was born a year from now, according to Nate; so if we're going to make sure there will be a Mother Askani, we're going to have to time it so our daughter will be born in exactly the time she's supposed to be born." He slid the roasting pan in the oven and took out a huge bag of potatoes to wash and boil. "It's kind of weird, I guess, but then, since when have we been a normal couple?"

                Logan stared at Scott for a moment before returning to his eggs. He muttered something under his breath about time paradoxes, but Scott didn't hear it, and Hank wasn't really curious enough to find out. Instead, he picked up the TV remote and clicked it on to the news channels. As discussion resumed around the kitchen table, he almost missed the next news item.

                "Several acres of rainforest are burning in Brazil today," said the reporter. "Authorities are unsure of how the fire got started, but it appears that a scientific expedition had accidentally begun the fire with a stray ember from a campfire they had built. This has caused the Brazilian government some distress, as the acres that are burning are reputed to have yielded up some important biological specimens in the recent past…"

                Hank sad urgently, "Logan, Scott. Please have the girls come up. I believe Amanda will want to see this."

                Scott's eyes went briefly unfocused again as he reached out to Jean telepathically.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Jean broke off in mid-sentence, staring into thin air. Seconds later, Jubilee did the same thing. "Amanda, come on," Jean took Amanda's arm and hauled her upwards. "Hank says there's something on TV you should see. Come on." She, Jubilee, and Amanda hurried upstairs, followed by the rest of the girls.

                Amanda froze as she saw the TV screen. All that green, and in the middle of it, bright, burning orange and angry yellow-red flames, accompanied by black smoke. "Oh my," she said, shocked. "Who started the forest fire?"

                "Amanda," Hank said, 'This is Brazil. And they don't know how it started."

                "Brazil?" And suddenly Amanda understood. "Bruce," she whispered, sinking into the chair Jean held out for her. "And the FOH. My God, what have I done? Why did I give him the location of the algae pond?" She stared at the screen, eyes wide, hand over her mouth. "It's my fault," she breathed. "I gave him the location to the place where I had discovered the virus. He wanted me to tell him where it was so he could keep the mutant terrorists, as he called you guys, from 'polluting' the rest of the world with the mutant virus. Oh, God, why did I give it to him?"

                "There will probably be another discovery of them somewhere," Warren suggested, but Amanda shook her head. 

                "The flora and fauna of the _tepui_ is completely unique due to evolutionary divergence," she said, "And I just handed over the location as easily as if it were a common thing. Oh, God, how could I have been so stupid?!" she turned and ran from the kitchen.

                Hank ran after her, following her upstairs to their room. Running at top speed, she got there before he did, and by the time he pushed the door open and stepped in, she was sobbing face-down on their bed. "Amanda," he said gently, pushing a lock of silver hair back from her flushed face, "It wasn't your fault. Don't worry."

                "But it was!" Amanda sat up in bed, wringing her hands. "Don't you see? I should never have given Bruce and Jason the location of the virus."

                Hank sat behind her on the bed, taking out the long braid of silver hair at the nape of her neck and beginning to re-braid it. "It was not your fault, beloved," he said firmly. "You were coerced…no, you were tortured…into giving them the information. No one could have held on to such information in the face of such extreme physical agony. You are not to blame for it. You could not help it." He put the strands of hair down, silencing her next protests with a firm kiss. "I do not blame you for it, and no one else in the mansion will blame you for it either. Don't think about it, beloved." And he proceeded to take her mind off the problem in the only way he knew how.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Amanda lay back some time later, feeling the warmth of the man beside her and feeling the flush of heat fading slowly from her skin after their physical exertion. She was about to drift off to sleep when a sudden thought almost made her sit bolt upright. She and Hank hadn't thought to use protection. In the heat of the moment, she hadn't even thought about it. 

                Hank sighed, next to her, and his hand shifted to lie on her chest. She sat for a moment, wondering if she should get up and take a pill, regardless of how sick it made her feel, then shrugged and lay back down. Just once wouldn't hurt. She turned until her body was tucked against his, spoon-fashion, and went to sleep.


	2. Positive

Chapter 2: Positive

                Amanda sighed, stretched her hands above her head, and sighed. "It's so great to be home," she said happily to Hank, who was lying next to her.

                He grinned wryly, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. "You have been saying that every day since we arrived home, beloved," he said gently, tickling her nose with the hair he held. "But I do appreciate the sentiment. Yes, it is wonderful to be home."

                She rolled over lazily, reached for the remote, and switched on the TV, flipping through the channels until she got to the news channels. Hank sighed and lay back on the bed. "Amanda, the fire will not go out that soon," he said."

                "It's the rainforest, Hank. They're going to do whatever they can to put the fire out; they don't want everything to burn after all."

                _"Firefighters say they have the blaze partially under control,"_ the reporter said. _"The flames have devoured nearly an acre of the rainforest, but so far has not spread out to the surrounding forest, due mostly to the fact that the fire started on the tableland and there is virtually no way that fire can be spread on the ground."_

                Amanda sighed and switched off the TV. "Well, it was worth a try," she mumbled, burying her head in her pillow.

                Hank patted her back as she sighed. "Amanda, fire leaves very little to chance. If it is indeed Bruce and the Friends of Humanity who started the fire, there will be little, if anything, left."

                "I know," Amanda said. "I was just still hoping that after the fire goes out I could maybe ask Charles if I could take a quick trip down there and see if I can collect any remaining samples of the virus."

                Hank considered. "Viruses are able to withstand higher temperature swings than most other forms of life," he said finally. "So it is possible that something might be left--"

                **Breakfast!** Came a cheery mental call through all their heads. Amanda winced and rubbed her suddenly aching head. 

                "Does Jubilee have to be so loud?" she complained as she slid out of bed and grabbed her clothes, tossed carelessly over the chair by the door.

                "Enthusiasm has always been one of Jubilee's more…notable…traits," Hank said, grabbing his pants as well. 

                "Oh, well, I guess Logan isn't complaining," Amanda snickered as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Not after the noises they were making last night."

                Hank grinned, white teeth flashing in his blue furry face. "I suspect that they will be the butt of many jokes around the breakfast table this morning," he said to Amanda. 

                Jubilee and Logan had the room beside Hank and Amanda's, and Scott and Jean's room was one more door down in what was now being called the 'marriage wing.' Xavier had been jokingly saying that at the rate they were all going, the entire mansion would soon be full of married couples. For a long time, there had been only Scott and Jean, then in the space of two years, Logan and Jubilee had gotten married, and then Hank and Amanda had moved into the wing too. The three couples had quickly learned what kinds of sounds the couple next door would tolerate, and there wasn't too much sniping between them about the noise level, but every now and then one couple would exceed the tolerance level of the other couples, and some conflict would occur. Last night Jubilee had been especially noisy; Hank could see the sparkle in Amanda's eye as she got ready to tease her friend.

                Jean and Scott were already in the kitchen, dumping eggs and sausage and bacon onto plates as Logan attended to the toast and fried ham. Jubilee was taking platters in and out of the kitchen to the informal dining room, where the rest of the mansion's residents were slowly starting to filter in. Amanda took a plate of scrambled eggs from Jubilee's overloaded hands as she said, "I guess it was really good last night, huh?"

                "Amanda!" Jubilee pretended to be shocked. Then she laughed. "I guess it did get a little out of hand, right?"

                "Oh, I wouldn't say so," Scott said, fixing Logan with a cheerfully malicious glare. "Logan seemed to know exactly what he was doing, right Logan?"

                "Get back to them pancakes, Cyke," Logan growled in mock ferocity. "B'fore I show ya what I was really doin'."

                "Oh, no, we wouldn't want that now, do we? 'Oh, Logan'!" Scott imitated Jubilee's high-pitched shriek.

                Logan jumped for Scott, with the tongs he was using to pull the toast out of the toaster outstretched. Scott parried his thrust with the spatula he was using to turn the pancakes. Amanda and Jubilee were standing there giggling hysterically, and Hank was grinning when Jean came back in. "Where's those….Scott!!" She snatched the pan off the stove as it started to send of the awful smell of burned pancakes, and looked at the mess ruefully. The guys didn't even pay attention; they were having a tong-and-spatula fight around the small kitchen table. Hank looked at her, she looked at him, and he waded in to try and separate the two combatants. Scott ducked behind Hank and poked Logan again. Logan dodged around Hank's body and lunged for Scott.

                Hank planted a hand in front of each man's chest and held them apart. "Children," he said amiably, watching as the two kitchen utensils clattered against each other uselessly in front of him. "This is highly unprofessional behavior for two longstanding members of the team…"

                "I'll say," Jean said firmly, coming up to stand beside him. "Enough," she said to the two men.

                They didn't appear to have heard her.

                **_"Enough!"_** she finally bellowed, vocally and telepathically. Logan and Scott both froze. "Better," she said, reaching out and grabbing the utensils telekinetically as she walked over to the sink. She swatted Scott none too gently on the butt with the pan as she walked by, causing him to yelp as the residual heat stung his backside. "Scott, I'll take over here. You go out and sit down. And you," she pointed a finger at Logan, "Get the rest of that toast out and go sit down. Hank, make sure they cool it, okay?" Hank waited for Logan to pick up the plate of toast, then escorted him out of the kitchen. As they disappeared out the door, Jean muttered, "_Men._"

                Amanda and Jubilee giggled behind their hands, and she turned to them, green eyes flashing. "Anyone got a comment?" Jubilee looked at the frying pan still in Jean's hand, thought about Jean possibly using it to spank her backside too, and raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Nope," she said, poker-faced. "Not me, no ma'am."

                "Me either," Amanda said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. Jean saw the smile, but didn't comment on it as she went back to scrubbing the pan out in the sink. "Grab those two plates of eggs," she directed Jubilee, "And Amanda, stick some more toast in the toaster."

                The rest of breakfast preparations went off without a hitch, and conversation resumed normally around the breakfast table as everyone dug in. Scott and Jean were having a low conversation down by the end of the table, and everyone was trying to avoid looking at them when Scott suddenly yelped . They all looked up, startled. He had dropped his fork, and his face was beet red. Jean was smiling with poisonous sweetness at him with one hand under the table. "Warren, would you mind if we used your apartment in the city tonight?" she said sweetly. 

                Amanda nearly dropped her fork. Warren replied back, "'Course not. Go on ahead, Jean."

                "Thank you," and they all went back to eating.

                Amanda was doing dishes with Ororo, Jubilee, Remy, and Bobby later when the first wave hit. She held a hand to her mouth, dropping the wet sponge into the sink, and leaned up against the counter. Ororo looked at her, concerned. "Amanda, are you all right?" she asked, taking her elbow.

                "Uh, I...I feel like I'm going to throw up," Amanda wrapped her arms around her stomach and ran for the bathroom. She bent over the toilet and retched miserably into it, throwing up her breakfast violently. She stayed in place there until the dry heaves subsided, and when she opened the bathroom door, Hank stood there, with Jubilee and Ororo behind him. She stumbled miserably into his arms, and he wrapped his arms gently around her. "What is it, Amanda?"

                "I think I'm coming down with that stomach flu they've been talking about on TV," she sighed. "I've been feeling kind of 'off' the last few days…"

                "Bed," Hank said. "And some hot soup."

                But the soup didn't stay down either. Hank went down to the medlabs to try to find some medicine for her while Jean went for cool washcloths to put on her forehead. Amanda lay in bed, her eyes closed, until another wave of nausea hit her, and then with Jean's help she got to the bathroom and threw up the little bit of water she had managed to drink. Jean was waiting patiently for Amanda to finish when she noticed something sitting on the floor behind the door, and picked it up. "Amanda," she said suddenly, staring at the tiny packet with her birth control pills in them, "have you been taking these?"

                Amanda raised her head, and stared at the packet in Jean's hand. "Oh my God," she said with comprehension dawning on her face, "no, I haven't, I've forgotten…" She put a hand over her mouth. "Do you think I could be…"

                "It's certainly possible," Jean said. "Come on, back to bed." She reached out telepathically **'Ro! Think you could bring me a needle from the medlabs, since you're down there?**

                Amanda's room door opened a moment later, and Ororo stepped in, holding the needle as Jean had asked. "What is this for?" she asked. Jean held up the pill packet wordlessly. Ororo blinked. 'Amanda, you might be…"

                "It's possible," Amanda said from where she was lying on the bed. "I haven't got anything in me to pee into a cup, so it'll have to be a blood test." She rolled up her sleeve and Jean inserted the needle. The sight of her blood triggered another wave of nausea, but as there wasn't anything left in her stomach to throw up, she just suffered through a bout of dry heaves. Ororo stayed with her as Jean ran off to the labs.

                Hank stared at the needle Jean held out to him. "What might this be for?" he said as he took it. 

                "Amanda and I just realized she might be pregnant," Jean said, smiling broadly as she looked at Hank's stunned expression. "Think you could test it?"

                "Of course," Hank said, still shocked but reaching for the needle.  He mechanically went about testing the sample as his mind whirled. Amanda, pregnant? When had…he thought she had been taking her pills…she couldn't be. The blood test would come up negative.

                He was so busy trying to convince himself she couldn't be pregnant that when he finally got the answer he just sat there staring stupidly at it for several moments before his stunned brain recognized it for what it was. Positive. Amanda didn't have the flu; she had morning sickness. She was pregnant.

                Jean peeked over his shoulder, saw the result, and whooped so loud his eardrums vibrated with her yell. She didn't even bother focusing her telepathic speech. Everyone in the mansion heard her jubilant shout. **_AMANDA YOU'RE PREGNANT!_**

                Upstairs, Amanda sat bolt upright in bed. "I'm what?" she yelped. "I'm pregnant?!"

                Footsteps pounded down the hall to her bedroom door, and seconds later, Jubilee, Warren, Betsy, Bobby, Scott, Remy, and Rogue appeared in the door. "Congratulations!" they all yelled at once, and in the ensuing babble of voices and faces Amanda nearly missed the sight of Hank, slipping into the room. She got out of bed, went to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Hank," she whispered into his ear, "Are you upset?"

                "Amanda, I am fine with it, if you are," he said to her as he hugged her. "I have always wanted children; I was uncertain whether you felt the same, or if you wanted to try it. With my mutation, and my genetic preponderance toward a large frame, I was afraid that you might experience…discomfort…should we attempt to produce offspring--"

                Amanda planted a firm kiss on his lips. "I'll do whatever I have to for you and for our child," she said cheerfully, her misery of the morning gone. She kissed him again and turned around, just as Charles glided into the room. "I believe congratulations are in order," he said with a smile. On the tray in front of him rested a bottle of champagne, and a stack of paper cups. Everyone in the room took one, except for Amanda, and toasted the new parents to be.

                "To Hank and Amanda," Xavier said, holding up his cup. "May you be blessed with a happy, healthy, perfect child."

                "And an easy pregnancy!" Jubilee shouted. Everyone laughed and drained their cups.


	3. Little 'Gift'

Chapter 3: 'Little Gift'

                Easy it was _not_.

                Amanda lay in bed groaning for the eighth day in a row after getting up first thing in the morning and throwing up. Hank looked at her in concern. "Amanda, are you sure you are all right?" he said. "Do you think you could manage to come down and eat? You have not eaten much the last couple of days; you must begin eating if you are to keep up your strength while pregnant."

                "I know, I know," Amanda moaned, curling up on her side. "But I can't eat anything. Just smelling food makes me want to throw up. You go ahead and eat."

                Hank said, 'If you are not to eat then I will not either--"

                Amanda aimed a gentle kick at his backside as he sat down on the end of the bed. "Hank, don't be so stubborn. Go and eat." His stomach growled loud enough to hear it, and she summoned a smile. "See? You are hungry. Go and get something to eat."

                He shook his head again. "Not unless you are coming down, too," he said. "Amanda, please. Just try to eat something. Anything."

                Amanda got out of bed and began to pull on her clothes. "Okay," she sighed. He waited until she had pulled on her jeans, then opened the door for her and escorted her out.

                Downstairs there seemed to be less fuss than usual. Hank looked around and noted the glaring absence of Scott, Jean, Warren, Betsy, Jubilee, Logan and Remy. Remy he hadn't expected to see anyway; the previous day being Friday, Remy, Logan, and Jubilee probably went bar crawling; they wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. Warren and Betsy were probably spending the night over at Warren's penthouse apartment; they did that every so often when they wanted privacy. That left…"Where are Scott and Jean?" he asked Ororo as she carried a box of cereal and the jug of milk to where she and Bobby were eating at the kitchen table.

                "They went on a double date last night with Warren and Betsy," Ororo said, pouring milk into her cereal. "I assume they spent the night at Warren's apartment."

                "Ah," Hank said, pulling out a chair for Amanda and getting two bowls out of the cupboard. He set them on the table and pulled Amanda's favorite cereal out of the cabinet, then took his own out and set both on the table.

                The door leading down to the basements suddenly burst open, and Rogue came speeding into the kitchen. "Where's the professor?" she asked breathlessly.

                "Right here," came Charles' measured, even tones from the doorway where he was coming in, still dressed in loose pajamas. "I could feel your excitement. What is it?"

                "Theah's a new aircraft in the hangar," Rogue said excitedly. "Lilandra sent it. Ah was in th' gym working out when Ah heard th' entry sirens goin' off. So Ah opened th' door an' there it was!"

                They all piled into the lift that took Charles' hoverchair down to the lower levels, and Charles punched in the code that would allow the elevator to descend past the basement level, where it would stop if the code weren't entered. As it began to move, Rogue went on. "It looks jus' like the Blackbird," she said, "But it's smaller, a lot smaller."

                The lift opened up into the hallway that led to the hangar, and Xavier got out first. He waited for everyone else to exit the elevator, then led the way down the hall to the control room of the hangar, built into the side of the cliff that overlooked the Hudson River.

                A small, gleaming black craft sat in the middle of the floor, tucked under the Blackbird's wing and looking for all the world like a duckling nestled under it's mother's wing. It even looked somewhat like a bird, as all Shi'ar craft did; the Shi'ar were a vaguely birdlike race, at least in appearance. Hank bounded up to the outer hull, reading the Shi'ar writing carefully, then touched the entry keypad on the outside in a deliberate sequence.

                A long loading ramp with a 30-degree slope extruded from the side of the craft's belly. The slope allowed Xavier to ascend without a break between the floor of the hangar and the craft without so much as a bump; a distinct improvement over the Blackbird, which had been designed by human engineers with the full use of their legs, not by a Shi'ar engineer somewhere on the other side of the galaxy who was paid to consider the hoverchairs that Lilandra had given Charles.

                There was seating for four inside; six if one unfolded the third row of seats. There was a big empty space in the back, with various straps and fasteners on the floor. Xavier surveyed the interior of the craft in silence, considering that, for all its apparent smaller external size, it was remarkably well-streamlined and sleek. Then he turned his attention to the front console, where a disk lay fastened to the 'dashboard' with a strip of tape. He disengaged the disk, then reached over and inserted it into a slot on the center console. A holographic image of Lilandra suddenly popped into view, startling Amanda who had never seen anything like it before, and began to speak.

                _"Greetings, Charles,"_ came the mellow, familiar voice of the woman whose image could make Xavier's knees go weak, _"It has been a long time; I hope all goes well for you, my love. I would have hopped into my cruiser and come to visit you, bringing you this little gift, but unfortunately since hopping into my cruiser also means bringing along half the Throneworld, I must reluctantly put off my visit. Just as well, as there are certain matters of state which presently command my attention; and affairs of state, as you know, cannot wait._

_                "Some months previous I received a communiqué from you mentioning a slight problem you had with short-distance hops in your main mode of transportation, the Blackbird; it was the fastest way to retrieve a kidnapped member of your team, but the fuel expenditure is unnecessarily steep given the distance, and a wheeled conveyance was impractical, since medical equipment would be needed and your vehicles would not have the necessary space. Your dilemma reminded me of this craft, which I formerly used for my own short-distance atmospheric hops around the Throneworld's central complex. I used Yasih'elef, here, to cover the distance from the throne room to my private chambers; you and several of your X-Men have visited me before, so you have an idea of the distance that covers!_

_                "Anyway, my Chief of Security has just certified a new craft for my use; it is smaller than this one, though with more security features (she is my Chief of security, after all) much …'roomier', I believe your term is…on the inside. She wished to scrap old Yasi, here…but as attached as I get to things, I could not bear to see him returned to his component atoms. Your transmission gave me just the excuse I needed to find a different home for him…and I am the Empress, after all…Ollikh agreed to have her engineers modify the craft slightly for your use, and to sign releases for all the instrumentation currently aboard it so that you could use it. Yasi is built to handle even your planet's primitive nuclear weapons, should one happen  to be launched at it. It is highly unlikely, given the hyponeutronium shielding and biomechanical chromatophores which will automatically alter the color of the exterior skin to mimic its surroundings…but enough. Your esteemed Dr. McCoy is likely rubbing his hands right now in anticipation of reading the 'owner's manual' to the craft. Please send him my congratulations on his nuptials…"_

                Amanda took a quick look at Hank; he was indeed rubbing his hands in anticipatory delight.

                _"…anyway, the fuel efficiency on this is much better when covering short distances. I am not sure how you measure fuel efficiency on your planet; but my engineers assure me that you should not need a refuel for at least a year; I had him refueled every two years, and that was with daily trips of the length I described. I had solar panels installed in his wings, so you should not need to use fuel except on overcast days or for night missions. The fasteners in the back of the plane are to hold down medical equipment and other unsecured mobile items._

_                I shall be making a state visit sometime in the near future, and I shall be bringing additional fuel, as I suspect by then that Dr. McCoy will have figured out the internal workings of the engine and have figured out how to adapt it to your Blackbird. Feel free, also, to rename the vessel; it was not named with human vocal capabilities in mind. Farewell, Charles, and I look forward to seeing you."_

Amanda blinked as the hologram winked out of existence; but the image of the regal birdlike woman persisted in her mind. She pushed it back and turned to Charles, who was turning the disk in his hand around and around, looking like someone who had won the lottery. "She needs a craft like this to take her from her room to the throne room? How big is her Throneworld, anyway?"

                "About the size of Jupiter," Xavier said with a smile at her incredulous look. "The Throneworld is at the heart of the Shi'ar Empire…and the Empire itself is about a third of the known galaxy. The distance Lilandra is referring to is roughly about the length of a jump from here, to, say, Baltimore."

                Amanda blinked, trying to wrap her mind around the concept of such a distance being considered a 'short hop'. "So what would she consider a trip from the mansion to the city?"

                Xavier's lips curved into a smile. "Citizens of her planet would just fly," Xavier said. "However, as Lilandra is the Majestrix of the Empire, security for her would restrict the possibility of her flying. She must therefore, be in a secured aircraft, like 'Yasi'elef'." Amanda noticed that he didn't have any problem with the pronunciation.

                She turned to Hank, only to find her husband deeply engrossed in the owner's manual, which looked more like the New York City phone book than an owner's manual. She smiled thinly, and looked at Rogue and Ororo and Bobby, who were getting into an animated discussion with Charles of what to name their new craft. Leaving them for a moment, she wandered down the hangar, studying the sleek streamlines of the craft, liking the way the craft seemed to follow graceful lines like a bird. She returned to Xavier's side. "Maybe it's just me," she said, breaking into the discussion, "But it looks like a bird to me. How about a bird name? 'Swallow', maybe; look at the forked tail. Or 'Swift'. Hey, we have a 'Blackbird'; how about 'Starling', or  'Raven'?"

                Hank looked at Amanda thoughtfully. "We had a 'Raven' a while back," he said thoughtfully. It was destroyed in an encounter we had with the Juggernaut. Perhaps we should name this one in honor of the one that was destroyed."

                "Nah," Rogue sniffed. "What are we tryin' to do, jinx the poor ship? Make it think we want this 'un to suffer the same fate? Ah kinda like 'Starling'."

                "Shall we put off this discussion until the remaining members of our team are present so that they may share with us their thoughts on the subject?" Hank said absently. "Charles, the guidance system on this is quite similar to the one on the Blackbird. With your permission, I'd like to take the craft for a 'test drive', so to speak."

                Xavier nodded. "Feel free. Why not take care of two tasks? Take Amanda to Brazil to see what remains of the _tepui_ and see if there are any samples of the virus remaining. A trip of that distance should give you enough of a feel for the craft's handling and capabilities, as well as being close enough to be picked up by the Blackbird should something go wrong. Just be sure you know how to handle the communications systems before you leave." He turned to Amanda, staring at him openmouthed. "Well, that is what you wanted, is it not?"

                "Well, yes, but…how did you know…"

                "I am a telepath, Amanda, you cannot get anything past me. I assume that is why you have been monitoring the firefighters progress?"

                "Yes."

                "Consider this your opportunity, then. I do not think there are any risks to the unborn child, flying at this stage in your pregnancy…and I don't anticipate you encountering any danger in the middle of the forest. And with Hank along to take care of you, you're doubly protected. Have a nice trip; I must go let Lilandra know that her little gift arrived safely." He turned and glided away, leaving Amanda shaking her head.

"Little gift!…"


	4. Wings

Chapter 4: Wings

                It took a few tries for Amanda to figure out how to do the seatbelts. Hank finally showed her.

                "Take that piece there," he said, pointing to a strap over her left shoulder, "And connect it to this piece," he handed her the strap he was holding, "and do the same to the other side. Now take that strap there between your thighs and pull it up, then snap it to this piece." He took the opportunity to tickle her thighs gently, making her giggle, then proceeded to fasten the rest of the straps around her upper body. "There we go." Amanda sat quietly as he buckled himself in, started up the small craft with a 'key' that looked like the entry cards for a hotel room, and hit the various keypads in sequence to get the small alien craft moving. There were no buttons or switches in this craft; squares were delineated on the surface of the consoles with alien writing on them that served as touch pads for various functions. The craft lifted off the floor of the hangar without so much as a hiccup, and Hank said, "Amanda, where are we going?"

                She gave him the longitude and latitude of the location of the _tepui_, and watched in fascination as the voice-recognition software in the circuitry automatically input their destination. The hangar door opened, and suddenly she was looking out at the clear blue sky out the front window, without even the normal pressure of takeoff. "Wow," she said, grinning at Hank, completely impressed.

                He smiled too. "It is completely different from the normal conveyances with which you are accustomed to traveling," he said. "The artificial gravity generators are considerably more advanced in Shi'ar craft, and there is less pressure…" Amanda held up a hand.

                "I'll leave the technical specifications up to you, Hank," she said. "I have quite enough on my mind right now, thank you."

                "Our little mission into the rainforest?"

                "No, the baby."

                "There are receptacles for biological waste in the above compartment--"

                Amanda looked up, reflexively. Yes, there were completely normal barf bags hanging over each seat. She grinned. "Nice to know that even an 'advanced race' like the Shi'ar still need barf bags."

                Hank smiled. "Yes, it does lend an air of equality to both our races, doesn't it?" He sobered. "So what is on your mind, Amanda?"

                "Our baby."

                "Specifically?"

                "That conversation about names for the craft…I was wondering what to name our baby."

                "Discussing a name now is somewhat premature, is it not? After all, we do not know it's gender yet."

                "I know," Amanda frowned. "We women just like to discuss these things early."

                Hank sat back, clasped his hands behind his head, and turned in his seat to look at her. "So have you come up with anything yet?"

                Amanda got nervous. "Uh, shouldn't you be flying the plane…uh, craft…uh, whatever this is?"

                Hank smiled. "Do not be alarmed; it is on autopilot. It will take us to where we want to go without any further guidance from me. I was planning on taking us to the location on autopilot, and then taking us back to the mansion manually." He was silent for a moment, then prompted her, "About the child…?"

                "If it's a boy, I want to name it after you."

                "Henry James McCoy, Jr." Hank rolled the name around his tongue thoughtfully. "I would like that. But what if it is a girl?" He looked at Amanda with a twinkle in his eye. "I like the name Amanda, personally."

                "Too many Amandas," Amanda said decidedly. "I was actually thinking about Katherine. Or Elizabeth. That's my mother's name."

                "We could argue that that would make too many Elizabeths," Hank said. "Betsy's given name is Elisabeth. Spelled with an 's', of course, but the pronunciation is similar enough that should you call our child, Betsy might also answer the call too!"

                Amanda laughed. "Okay, no Elizabeth," she said. "I do like Katherine, though."

                "Why not name her both?" Hank said. "Katherine Elizabeth McCoy."

                "You wouldn't mind?" Amanda said. "Wouldn't you want to name her after your mother or something like that?"

                "My mother's name actually was Katherine," Hank said with a chuckle, "So the name works both ways."

                Amanda grinned. "I love you," she said to Hank.

                "And I you." He smiled, and turned around as a beep from the computer signaled that they were nearing their destination.

                The craft touched down lightly in the middle of a clearing of burned, charred vegetation. Amanda got out, and her nausea was forgotten as she stared at the devastation. "My God," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "How could anyone…just…destroy everything?" she bent, and picked up a handful of ash, watching as the greenish-gray flakes drifted away on the slight breeze. "All the plants and stuff here…most of them hadn't been catalogued and classified yet." There were tears in her eyes as she looked around, dusting her hand off on her jeans.

                There was nothing left. Amanda crossed the ground several times, walking back and forth, but all she found was ruin. Ash and flakes of burned greenery littered the ground, and the pond was gone. Amanda walked out close to the edge of the tableland, went to her knees on the very edge, and peered over. The flora and fauna of the rainforest, far below her, was pristine and untouched, a stark contrast to the destruction of the tableland around her.

                "Amanda," Hank began. "I am uncertain that the ground under you is quite stable. Perhaps you should--"

                Too late. The waterlogged ground under Amanda crumbled, and with a scream she started the long tumble down toward the forest floor a hundred feet below her.

                "Amanda!" Hank bellowed and started to lunge after her—only to be brought up short by the glowing tail of an energy whip curling around his arm. He whirled, staring at the purple and red-garbed figure standing behind him. "Magneto! Let me go! I have to--"

                "No need," said the serene voice of Magneto, standing behind him beside Senyaka, who was holding the energy whip. Hank spun, and watched disbelievingly as Amanda floated into the air, held up by Magneto's power. "I have her."

                Hank watched helplessly as Magneto floated Amanda down in front of him. She came to a stop several feet above the ground, thrashing vainly, trying to get free. "Do not waste time, my dear," Magneto's voice had the whip-crack edge of a command. "Is this where you got the original samples of your virus?"

                "Yes," Amanda said, stopping her movement and hanging before him resignedly.

                "Did you do this?" He waved a hand outward at the charred vegetation around them. "Did you burn this area so no more samples could be taken?"

                Amanda stared at him in disbelief. "You think I did this? You think I'd be so much of a monster that I'd slash and burn an entire ecosystem? Let me set your mind at ease right now; no. I didn't. I'm responsible for it, but no. I didn't do it."

                "How can you be responsible and not have done it?" Magneto's eyes narrowed.

                Amanda sighed, and relaxed in midair. "I gave my former fiancé the location of this _tepui._ He came here with Jason and burned the place to the ground."

                "Now why would you do such a thing?" Magneto glared at her. "You are a scientist; the flora and fauna of this tableland is completely unique. How could you do such a thing--"

                "She didn't do it on purpose!" Hank burst out. "Bruce Garrett tortured Amanda by cutting out her wings until she told him where the samples had been collected! It wasn't her fault! Look at her shoulders if you don't believe me!"

                Magneto rotated the girl hanging in midair before him until her back was toward him. His hands grabbed the neckline of the thin shirt Amanda wore and tore it downward until her shoulder blades were exposed to his gaze. Amanda had to fight hard not to flinch as his gloved fingers traced the ugly scars where the scalpel had sliced deeply into her shoulders, removing the muscles and tendons that had controlled the movement. Skin grafts had covered the gaping holes in her back, but the nerves still remembered the pain, and she was extra-sensitive about touch on that portion of her back.

                Magneto's face relaxed, and he compressed his lips, frowning in sympathy as he took his hands away. "Could they not be regrown?"

                Hank sighed. "I tried, Magnus. But to do that I need a sample of her DNA before she was mutated; and I don't have that."

                "Explain." Magneto demanded.

                Hank said, "Amanda needs to have the area of skin and flesh around the site of her wings reverted to a pre-mutated state. Then the virus can be injected again, and the transformation would encourage wing regrowth."

                Magneto snapped his fingers. "Amelia!" The red-haired woman came forward with an insulated silver specimen case. Magneto snapped it open with a wave of his hand, floated a needle up to his palm, and snatched it out of the air. He looked at Amanda's back, selected a spot midway between  her shoulder blades, and injected the contents of the needle.

                "What are you doing! Magneto!" Hank shouted.

                Magneto withdrew the needle carefully. "Calm down, Beast. I am not killing her. When I injected her with the virus originally she wrenched herself off the needle. In the process she tore the wall of her vein. The needle was still half-full of her blood when we parted company. I have been conducting my own research over the last few months; since I did not have access to a supply of human DNA samples, I had to clone her DNA from the blood left in the needle. This is her normal DNA. There is not much; it will only convert a small area of her skin to its pre-mutated state, but it should be sufficient that, when the virus is reintroduced into her body, her wings should regenerate."

                "There is no more virus, though," Amanda said, "So this all is useless…"

                "Not entirely," Magneto said, taking another needle from the case. "When you grabbed the samples, Beast, you missed one. I attempted to clone the virus; but I was for the most part unsuccessful. Only one batch was viable. That is why I came here, to obtain more samples. And what do I find? The virus is now extinct outside of a laboratory. However, I have you." Amanda's eyes widened as he looked at her.

                "Me? But what could you hope to gain from having me?"

                "My dear, you are a walking carrier of the virus. It may be dormant now, but if I could find a way to extract the virus from your blood, it would become active when I introduced it into another human's body." Magneto extracted another needle, this one empty, and said, "In exchange for giving you your wings back, I do not think you would begrudge me a liter of your blood."

                "No!" Amanda flailed in panic. "Please, no! I…my child…please!"

                Magneto paused. "You are pregnant?"

                Amanda nodded mutely, tears sliding down her face and falling in a silvery hail to the ground. "Hank and I got married," she said. "And I'm pregnant with our first child. Please, Magneto. My morning sickness is very bad, and I'm not in the best of health at this moment. Please."

                "I need it," Magneto told her simply, and slid the needle under her skin. Hank started to lunge forward, but Magneto simply snapped his fingers, and Sven and Harlan Kleinstock wrapped their arms around him, holding him back. It took the additional help of Katu and the force applied by Senyaka's whip to hold him back, and at that it was just barely enough.

                Hank howled in savage fury as he watched Amanda's blood begin to fill the small bag Magneto attached to the other end of the needle. "Magneto, I swear I will kill you if you hurt Amanda again!"

                "So speaks a man who loves his new wife very much," Magneto said blandly, beginning to disengage the bag and the needle. "Do not worry, either of you. I have not taken much. I do not need much; just enough to clone more of the virus. I have plans for it, you see," he said, taking a needle with the familiar yellowish fluid of the virus in it. He injected it in the exact same spot he had just injected Amanda with her own non-mutated blood, then lowered her to the ground. At a nod from him, his Acolytes released Hank, and Amanda fled to the safety of his arms. Magneto placed the bag and all his instruments back into the case, then closed it. "I do not know where your plane is," he said curtly, "But I suggest that you not leave until her transformation is complete." He and the Acolytes walked off the edge of the tableland into midair, and Magneto floated them all off into the jungle. In seconds they had disappeared. 

                Hank held Amanda as shudders began to wrack her body. "I am here, beloved. It should not be as painful as it was before; it is only your wings."

                "I…know…" Amanda gave a soft moan. "I know it won't last as long…but Hank, it still hurts!" She gave an anguished cry, and the paler skin over her shoulder blades began to curve outward.

                Hank felt completely helpless as he held Amanda for the next hour, whispering soothing words into her ear. He was torn; he wanted to return to the craft and call the X-Men for help; but Amanda clutched him so hard he couldn't get her to let go. "Please, Hank, don't go," she whimpered in panic. And so he stayed there, and held her, even as she began to shudder and scream in further pain. Then, as her cries reached a crescendo, the bulges on her back exploded outward, exactly as they had before, and exposed the wet, wrinkled mass of gray membrane. Hank held her as she sagged down onto the ground, crying softly, and smoothed her hair as she began to exercise the newly-regrown muscles and tendons of her new wings, which dried quickly in the heat of the Brazilian rainforest.

                It was a long time later that she pushed herself up on her hands and knees, took a quick look over her shoulder at the new rainbow wings on her back. She stretched them, fanned them gently, then grinned, suddenly, unexpectedly, at Hank. "I didn't realize how much I loved them," she said. "And how  much I missed them. Come on, Hank. Let's go home. There's nothing left here for us, and we have to tell the others what happened, and that Magneto now has an almost endless supply of the virus, thanks to me." She sighed. "Again."

                "Amanda," Hank sighed. "I will tell you again, none of this is your fault! You could no more stop Magneto from drawing your blood than you could help giving Bruce this location. Do not worry about what is out of your control. Concentrate on your child, and on your health. Now, let's go home, and I'll set the synthesizer for your blood type so we can replace what you lost." He carried her over to an innocuous-looking charred tree, and touched a knot in the bark. The 'tree' dissolved, and the landing ramp to their new craft extruded. Hank carried her into the craft, and moments later it lifted off, leaving the rainforest behind.


	5. Calm Before The Storm

Chapter 5:

                Hank insisted on carrying Amanda off the craft. In the control room off the hangar, the X-Men stood, stunned for a second, then poured out of the room in a wave. Even Xavier.

                "Hank!" Jubilee screeched to a stop right in front of him and then turned to keep pace beside him as he carried Amanda off toward the medlabs. "Hank, what—how---Amanda--"

                "What happened?" Xavier's voice abruptly cut through the babble of other voices.

                "We ran into Magneto," Hank said. "He had a sample of Amanda's DNA left from our former encounter. He saw her scars; and was sufficiently moved by them to reverse her mutation by injecting her with the sample he had of her blood. Then he injected her with samples of the virus, which he cloned from the single sample I accidentally left in his laboratory."

                "What was he doing there?" Xavier said, staring at Amanda, who laid her aching head tiredly against Hank's shoulder.

                "Charles, I would give you the long version, but I really need to get Amanda to the medlabs. She has lost a lot of blood, and I need to ensure that she is stabilized before I answer any further."

                "Of course, of course. I am sorry; please go on." Xavier moved out of the way, and the rest of the X-Men stood around him as Hank carried Amanda down the hall to the medlabs.

                She sighed as he put her down on her side on the bed, and rolled over onto her stomach, fanning her wings for a moment. "I didn't realize how much I missed them, Hank," she murmured as she slipped off into sleep.

                Hank set the plasma synthesizer for Amanda again, and connected the tube directly to Amanda's arm. The machine began its reassuring hum as it started to work. The scanner on the biobed showed that Amanda hadn't lost that much blood; just a quart or so; but Hank was still determined that she should replace what was lost. She was carrying a baby, after all. He ran an ultrasound scanner over her still-flat stomach, and was reassured when he saw the dim shape of the fetus still growing, completely undisturbed, inside her stomach.

                He set the biobed to automatic, and slid the remote into the pocket of his pants. The biobed was tied to the remote; if Amanda's vitals dropped or stopped suddenly, his remote would alert him. She seemed stable; but that could change.

                Xavier was upstairs in his study when Hank went looking; he entered and sat down in the easy chair on the other side of the desk. "I am now at your disposal, Charles."

                "How is she? You mentioned blood loss."

                "Magneto's purpose in coming to that particular spot was to collect more samples of the virus, just as ours was. He wishes to infect the rest of humanity with the virus, thereby converting the entire world into mutants. He was quite disappointed to discover that the virus is gone, but Amanda carries the virus in her blood, in her DNA. It may be dormant, but it is still usable. So he drew about a quart and a half of her blood. It is not endangering her health; but I still wished it replaced. After all, it must sustain her life as well as that of her unborn child."

                "Will she be all right?"

                "Apparently."

                Xavier rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I am sorry, Hank. I did not expect him to be there when you were there. I take responsibility--"

                "Charles. You are not responsible for anything. No one knew this was going to happen. It was simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time." Hank reflected for a moment, then said, "Actually, from Amanda's point of view, it was the right place. She seems actually grateful for her wings."

                Charles smiled. "She didn't want them when she first got them, and now she has them back. An interesting twist. However, that aside, we have other things to worry about. Magneto now has samples of the virus that can be cloned almost an infinite number of times. If he figures out how to introduce it to the world's population at large, we could be looking at the death of about forty percent of the world's population. I read Amanda's research. I am afraid, hank. Erik is so certain that the war is coming that he would take the burning of the _tepui_ as a sign that it has started. And I am afraid of the measures he would take to ensure that mutants triumph."

                "I am worried about the possible steps humans would take against our kind if knowledge of the virus were to become widely known," Hank said. "However, Charles, I really don't see what, if anything, could be done about it now. It will probably take a while for Magneto to perfect a delivery system; and it may not even be possible."

                "True," Xavier said quietly. "All right. We will cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, go ahead and tend to Amanda. Doubtless several of the others will want to greet her as well. Please tell her I am gratified to see her whole again."

                "I shall," Hank said cheerfully.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Amanda opened her eyes slowly.

                She had to be dreaming. It felt like she had her wings back. There was a definite presence over her shoulders that she hadn't felt since Bruce had cut out her wings. She flexed them, smiling in pleasure as her eyes closed. Then the memory of the day's events came back, and she rolled over and sat up. 

                Hank sat in a chair beside her bed, adjusting the readouts on the panel at the side of the biobed. "Hello," he greeted her cheerfully, standing and giving her a kiss. "How are you feeling--"

                Amanda reached for him, grabbed him, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she gave him a long, deep, fervent kiss. He relaxed into her embrace, kissing her back, and didn't let go until she did. "I take it you are feeling better," he said bemused when she finally let him go."

                "Much," Amanda giggled as she sat back down on the bed. "I feel like I'm whole again. Alive, like I haven't felt in months. I love you, Hank."

                "And I you," he said. "I believe I have found the source of your morning sickness. There was a chemical imbalance in your body. I gave you an injection to correct it. You should be feeling well enough to eat dinner with us."

                "What time is it?" Amanda looked up at the clock above the door.

                "You have been asleep for some three hours," Hank said. "We left in the craft just after breakfast; we got back here just after noon. I expect dinner will be ready in an hour or so; will you be eating?" His tone and voice sounded hopeful.

                "Yes," Amanda said, sliding off the bed. "Yeah, I'll be eating. But I want to see if these work!" She caught hold of his arm. "Come outside with me, Hank, please?"

                Ororo, Warren, Jubilee, Rogue, and Jean were playing their old game of aerial tag. Amanda stood uncertainly on the grass outside for a long moment, then began to fan her wings. It seemed strange at first, the motion unfamiliar after several months of not having wings, so the beating was erratic; but she soon got it coordinated, and with a delighted laugh, she flew up into the sky.

                The others broke off their game to hover around her, concerned that she might take a tumble; but when she didn't appear to need them, they backed off. Amanda soared, laughing, into the endless blue above her, then alighted gently on a bough in a nearby tree. "Come on, Hank!" she laughed. "Race you across the forest to the oak over there!" She pointed to a huge old oak far off in the distance; so far that it was just a speck on the very edge of the Xavier estate.

                "No, Amanda, come down, I do not want you to exert yourself too much! Remember, you are carrying little Katherine or Henry in there!" She was making him distinctly nervous with her hovering. What if something should happen?"

                "Katherine? Henry?" Jubilee grinned as she alighted on the grass beside him, dispelling the paused-air molecules she was standing on with a wave of her hand. "You two picked out names already?"

                "Katherine Elizabeth if it is a girl, and Henry James if it is a boy," Hank said, feeling a tiny thrill of pride. He would be equally happy if it were either gender; but there was a small part of him that hoped for a boy. A boy, named for him, who he could teach about the wonders under a microscope…

                Jubilee punched him in the arm. "What makes you think your son's going to want to do what you do for a living?" she said lightly. "What if he has a mechanical bent, like Scott? Or an interest in Nature, like Ororo? Are you going to make him do what you want him to do, like you're trying to make Amanda do what you want her to do right now, or are you going to let your child do what they want to do?"

                Hank looked at Jubilee with new eyes. "The child shall be free to do whatever she or he wants to do, jubilee," he said slowly. "Just as Amanda is free to do what she wishes to do. I understand, Jubilee." She winked at him and took off on another platform of 'hard' air as Amanda came to rest down on the grass. Hank watched her somberly as she walked up to him, pouting. He grabbed her quickly, planting a kiss on her lips, then tapped her shoulder lightly as he bounded off to the nearest tree in the small forest. "Last one there, as the saying goes!" he called back over his shoulder. Amanda squealed in mock outrage at his duplicity, and ran off after him, beating her wings furiously to try to propel herself faster over the intervening space. Rogue, Ororo, and Warren flew alongside, the girls cheering Amanda on, Warren spurring Hank on, while Jubilee sped to the 'finish line' and stretched out her hands. Amanda flew as fast as she could, but Hank's head start was too great. Nevertheless, he tagged Jubilee's outstretched hand only seconds before Amanda herself did.

                She slapped Jubilee's hand and laughed as she dove into Hank's outstretched arms, the force of her dive carrying him to the ground with her. She straddled his body, the short skirt she wore riding up her thigh and making him aware of her body heat; and that awareness brought to life his physical desires. Jubilee sensed the surge of passionate emotion, and quietly urged the others to leave as Amanda leaned in and kissed Hank thoroughly on the lips.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                There were teasing looks aimed at the couple when they walked in the back door, blushing furiously (or at least Amanda was; Hank's was hardly noticeable except as a darker blue shading on his cheekbones) but no one said anything. It had been the guys' day to clean; and as a result the girls had made dinner. It was sumptuous, even by the mansion's standards; partly because the girls loved not having to clean, for once; and also because Amanda had gotten her wings back. "I'm not a big fan of Magneto," Warren said to Amanda in a low voice as laughter and chatter filled the dining room, "but I'm glad he gave you your wings back."

                "I am too," Amanda said, fanning her wings gently, creating a breeze that stirred the napkins on the table. "Even though he's the one that did this to me to begin with, I'm glad I have them back."

                Warren nodded as, on Hank's other side, Bobby belched and sat back. "Boy, I really love cleaning day," he said to no one in particular. "The meals alone are worth it."

                "Yeah, it's too bad we girls don't get the same reward after a long day of doing your laundry," Jean teased, telekinetically lifting a napkin and swiping at a ketchup stain on his chin. 

                Bobby fended off the napkin. "Hey, it's not like you girls don't fill up while you're down there scrubbing our clothes over the washtubs," he said sarcastically. "I've seen you down there. All that junk food, soda, chips and ice cream and stuff you hide from us, it's a wonder any of you have an appetite when you get back up here in the evening."

                "Careful," Jubilee grinned. "Insult us too much and I might slip laxatives in your food next time." Laughter rippled around the table as they all remembered that particular practical joke. Bobby had poured crushed laxative pills into the coffee one morning; and everyone who drank it had been stuck in the mansions various bathrooms for most of the day. Jubilee, who didn't drink coffee, had complained loudly about the smell coming from the bathroom she shared with Logan; she had also threatened to do the same thing to the joker if she ever found out who it was. 

                Bobby ducked back over his plate, taking a large mouthful of Ororo's apple pie in order to avoid having to answer Jubilee' threat. Amanda grinned, finished off the slice of pie on her plate, and held it out to Hank. "Another piece?"

                He looked pleased as he eased another piece onto her plate. "You are still hungry?" 

                "Hey, I have to keep up my strength. I'm carrying our baby, after all," she said happily.

                The girls repaired to the kitchen later to do dishes, and Jean idly snapped on the kitchen TV telekinetically, more for background noise than for anything else. What she saw, however, caused her to stop everything she was doing and turn the sound up, as the others, including Amanda, clustered around her.

                Bruce Garrett was on TV, talking to a well-known top news anchor. "This discovery will allow anyone who doesn't want to be a mutant to become normal," he said, his handsome face showing nothing but an earnest desire for understanding. "For all the mutants out there," he said, turning directly toward the camera, "I urge you to consider the option I am offering. I am giving you the opportunity to reverse your mutation, to become normal; you don't have to be a mutant any longer. Look, do you see this?" He held up a needle. "In this needle is the solution. It will reverse your mutation. I am offering you a solution; I am offering you a way to fix what Fate has mistakenly made of you. If you want to become normal, please come to my clinic at East 42nd and Fayette. I will give you the injection, for only a small fee of twenty dollars; and you can walk in the sun again as a normal human. You will be able to live where you want to live; work where you want to work; be free of the prejudices that mutant-fearing humans are subjecting you to. Please consider it. I have plenty of the serum; no one will be turned away. Even if you haven't got the money; a payment arrangement can be made. I will do anything to help you out."

                "And why, Mr. Garrett," said the anchorman, "Would you do this?"

                "Because the woman I love, the woman I was to marry, suddenly mutated into a horrible freak,' Bruce said. "I filed a report with the police. The mutant terrorists known as the X-men, a member of whom is the esteemed Dr. McCoy, kidnapped my fiancée and forcibly mutated her, then brainwashed her into thinking she was happy being a mutant. I believe that she thinks there is no way to reverse it. But that belief is wrong!" he turned back to the camera, and this time there was a tear in his eye. "Amanda, come back to me," he pleaded. "You don't need to live with the horrible mutation he forced on you. You can be normal again. I never stopped loving you; we can still get married. Just come back, Amanda."

                The anchorman turned to face the camera. "And that's all the time we have tonight. I hope everyone is thinking about this; and I hope you all make the decision that is best for you. Good night, New York."

                Jean switched off the TV and they all stood in silence for a moment before turning to Amanda. Her face was pale with shock. "Amanda, is that possible?"

                "I've been working toward it," Amanda said quietly. "I feel like I'm almost there, at a discovery…but with the pregnancy and all…' she shook her head. "Bruce must have cleaned all the algae out of the pond before they burned the _tepui_ to the ground. He has an unlimited supply; Oh, God, what have I done?"

                "Don't worry," Jean said, putting an arm around Amanda. "It's still up to each of us to decide if we want it or not. It's not like we're getting it shoved down our throats. Not everyone will want it. There will still be plenty of mutants around."

                Rogue turned away from the group and went up to her room, her mind troubled. No one saw her leave.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Miles away, the Mayor of the city picked up the official pen he usually used and signed his name on the bottom of a new bill, ratifying it into law. "There, Senator," he said. "Now that silly convict can't refuse to take his meds; this law says he has to accept medical treatment for his existing condition, even if he doesn't want to."

                "Indeed," said the measured, even tones of the silver-haired, distinguished man sitting in front of him. Bruce Garrett Senior reached across the desk and picked up the paper. It was a law saying that no one could refuse medical treatment for an existing condition if there was a treatment available.

                And no one could deny that mutations were 'existing conditions'…


	6. A Choice

Chapter 6: A Choice

                Rogue couldn't sleep.

                Her mind was whirling. There was a way to reverse mutations. She didn't have to be a mutant anymore, she didn't have to be cursed with an uncontrollable power that drained the life and powers out of everyone she touched. She would be able to touch others, to kiss, to hug, to swim without having to wear a wetsuit, to play with others…and most of all, she and a certain Cajun would finally be able to take their relationship to the next level. She would be his girl. She wouldn't have to watch him go out with girls that didn't love him or appreciate him. She could love him the way she wanted to.

                But there was a flip side to the coin. She was a member of the X-Men; a longstanding member. There were things she could do that no one else could do. They would feel her absence terribly if she went to the clinic and paid for the injection; if she became a normal human. And that meant she'd have to leave the mansion; and she had no idea where she would go, or what she would do, or how she would live.

                And then, there was also the source. Bruce Garrett said he had the solution; but was it really a solution? It was all very well, if the results were reliable; but in order for him to say that it did work he had to have tested it. She didn't want to think of other mutants imprisoned as Amanda had been, restrained, tormented with a succeeding series of injections that didn't work. Bruce Garrett had lied to get Amanda back. He hated mutants. And Rogue herself had felt the sting of jealousy too often not to recognize it when she saw it. Bruce Garrett was jealous of Hank for having, and marrying, Amanda. Deeply, rabidly, insanely jealous; perhaps jealous enough to try to get to Amanda through the X-Men, of which Hank was a prominent part of. Maybe even jealous enough to set up this farce, hoping that the X-Men would come to stop him, or that one of the X-Men would be intrigued enough to come to him, and he would have a bargaining chip.

                And there was the pain. Rogue was no stranger to pain; none of the X-Men were. Being superheroes—she snorted in disgust at the term—meant that they all got injured, at one time or another. But even they, seasoned and experienced in the handling of pain, had been appalled at the agony Amanda had experienced when Magneto injected her with the virus. Rogue had remembered fleeing the observation room four hours after Amanda had gone in there, unable to bear seeing the other woman's body spasm in agony, unable to bear hearing the hoarse, choked cries coming from a throat raw with screaming. What if a reverse mutation caused a similar amount of pain? Rogue wasn't sure she could handle it. She couldn't even watch; how was she going to live through it? Her powers made her almost invincible; she didn't experience paper cuts, or the little bruises, scrapes, and bumps like everyone else did. How would she survive the agony? 

                But the advantages matched the disadvantages…and Rogue couldn't decide what to do. She hopped out of bed and pulled her dressing gown over her shoulders, then reached automatically for her gloves, sitting on her nightstand, and pulled them on. Maybe a cup of hot tea in the kitchen would help.

                She was almost there when she heard voices. Ignoring them, she had her hand on the doorknob when she heard her name. She froze.

                "…don' know what Rogue gonna do," said a male voice. Remy. "Me, I don' wanna change. I like who I am. And I love Rogue. Don' laugh, 'Ro, I do love her, it's jus' an on again, off again kinda t'ing. I wanna wait till she ready, den Remy gon' ask her to marry me. Dere ain't nobody I rat'er spend my life wit'. I jus' don' know what I'm going to do if Rogue go get dat injection an' leave de mansion an' go off an' fin' someone else…"

                Rogue put a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of shock. Remy was planning to ask her to marry him? She wasn't ready to settle down now…but maybe someday she would…and there was always artificial insemination…

                She listened. Ororo was talking now. "Remy, Rogue cares for you too. Did you think that perhaps she might wish to have her mutation reversed for your benefit and hers? Rogue longs for a human touch, Remy. And trust me when I say she wants yours more than anything else in the world. Despite her sometimes prickly exterior, she truly loves you and cares for you. No," she said, holding up a hand. "Do not ask me how I know. Suffice it to say that I simply do."

                "But she don't have to, 'Ro," Remy slurred, sounding sleepy now. "I asked…Jubilee been working on them…a pair of gloves and a suit to match…one molecule thin. She tried a prototype on Rogue one night while dey was doin' dishes…it worked…She makin' an entire suit for Rogue for her birt'day so she don' haveta wear all dose clothes anymore…'Ro, talk her outta it…please…" And the next sound Rogue heard was a snore.

                There was a soft chuckle from Ororo. "Rogue, I doubt I will be able to get Remy up to bed myself, so if you would oblige by coming in here, we should be able to get him upstairs between the two of us."

                Rogue pushed open the kitchen door. "You knew?"

                "I heard your footsteps. Yes, I knew you were listening. I thought you should hear what Remy would never tell you…just as he learned what you would never tell him." Ororo put her cup on the counter and went around to Remy's left side. "If you would take the right side, please…"

                Between the two of them, they got Remy up to his bedroom. It was a mess. The typical bachelor's room, Rogue reflected absently as she pulled off his boots and socks. As Ororo went to the bathroom down the hall to get a cup of water and two aspirin for the hangover Remy would likely have the next morning, Rogue gathered up some of the scattered clothing, identifying dirty laundry from clean laundry by its smell, and had the room tidied up a bit by the time Ororo came back. She put the cup and aspirin on the nighttable and watched as the other woman tidied up. "Come down and have a cup of tea with me, Rogue," she said finally. "I wish to speak to you."

                Back downstairs with her gloved hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea, Rogue sat back and listened to Ororo. "Remy is concerned that you will choose to have the injection done," she said meditatively, twisting a long silver curl around her finger. "While I am uncertain that you would indeed choose that course of action, as your friend and as the team's co-leader, I will have to advise against it. We don't know if Bruce Garrett is indeed the bearer of a solution; and even if he did have one I question his motives. After seeing what he has done to Amanda, both before she met Hank and after what happened a few months ago when he tortured her--" Ororo made a face of loathing and disgust at the memory, but continued, "…I am convinced that most of this is being done out of jealousy and spite. I am not sure how he plans to get Amanda again with this new 'serum', but I am sure he has some devious plan in mind. I wish we knew what it was; but we will have to wait and see. Hank is terribly worried. Amanda has her wings back, and she is pregnant; if Bruce finds out, what might he do to her? He forced her to suffer terribly when she was with him before; what might he do to her now?" Ororo's face was troubled as she sipped her tea.

                "What'd that skunk do to Amanda before?" Rogue asked.

                Ororo sighed. "Hank requested that I not tell anyone; Amanda told him and Charles only. I promised; but I think you need to know. Bruce Garrett feels the need to control everyone around him; that included Amanda. He also had a sadistic streak. He lured her into entering a partnership with him with the promise of allowing her to use his lab facilities for her research, then when she was secure he pirated her research. She protested. He beat her badly one night; broke her arm, according to her. He bandaged it up; but when she tried to leave, he told her he wouldn't allow her to take her research with her and that he would prevent her from ever getting another job. He managed to convince her that she had no options but to stay with him; then he put a ring on her finger and told her that if she did not tell everyone they were engaged he would beat her again. He regularly forced her to engage in rough sex with him; he would play brutal games with her. The scars on her body aren't so noticeable now that she has no color on her skin at all; but Hank told me once he was the most horrified at the cigarette burns on her chest. Bruce Garrett is capable of great cruelty; Amanda is terrified of him. It took a lot of courage to leave him; she admitted to Hank once that if she hadn't been so afraid that Bruce would do the same thing to Jubilee, who had amnesia when she fell into his clutches, she would have committed suicide because she felt she couldn't leave and because life with Bruce was unbearably painful, physically, mentally, and emotionally."

                She studied Rogue over the rim of the cup. "Rogue, I know you hate your mutation. Probably better than anyone else does; we have had many talks about it over the years. If I were certain that you would get your heart's desire from having your mutation reversed, I would be the first one to tell you to do it. But I am not certain, not at this time. The source is completely unreliable; the serum has not been tested by an unbiased source; and the source's ethics are despicable. However," she said, rising and putting her cup in the sink, "It is still up to you. You must make the decision on your own. Just remember something, Rogue; we will still be your friends, regardless of what your decision ends up being." She rested her hand lightly on top of Rogue's shoulder lightly, for a moment, before leaving the kitchen.

                Rogue sat there, thinking that over for a while, and was just rinsing her cup and getting ready to go back up to bed when she heard heavy footfalls outside. She turned, startled, then relaxed when she saw Hank come in. "If you are making tea," Hank said, rubbing his eyes, "I would appreciate some as well." 

                She brought a mug over a short time later. Her sharp eyes noted the lines on his face, deeper than they had been earlier, and sat next to him. "Can't sleep either?"

                "Amanda was having nightmares again," Hank said quietly. "And she is doubting herself." He sighed. "Rogue, she has been working toward a mutation-reversing serum with this virus for a considerable while. Every attempt she has made to change its nature have failed. I find it difficult to believe Bruce could have succeeded where she could not. Something is wrong with this serum; and I rather suspect it has to do with the source." He ran his hand through his hair. "Rogue, Amanda does not discuss it, and she made me promise not to tell anyone, but she was abused badly while she was living with Bruce. On her bioscans I have seen broken bones that never healed correctly; fractures that were never attended to; stresses on her shoulder and hip muscles and bones that came from Bruce dislocating her arms and legs. It appalls me; and I have promised her I would die before I allow him to ever touch her again. And I mean it. I am convinced that this serum is nothing but a ruse to draw us or Amanda in, because he wants her back. And he cannot. She is pregnant; if he could torture her so while she was…unburdened…what might he be capable of when he finds that the woman he is obsessed with is pregnant with another man's child? Rogue, please take it from me, as a doctor, as a teammate, and as a friend; don't go. Don't do this."

                Rogue was shaken. If Hank believed it wasn't possible, then chances were, it wasn't. And knowing what Bruce had done to Amanda…she was still shaking her head as she went up to bed.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                She had just about made up her mind when she hopped into her car the next morning, early. She didn't tell anyone where she was going.

                She headed for the clinic. She parked across the street for a long time, looking at the door of the clinic, watching mutants go in. Most puzzling to her was that, though she saw people going in, she didn't see anyone coming out.

                "Hey, lady," came a drawl at her elbow. She turned, to see a police officer standing there. "No loitering." Then he saw what she was looking at. "You thinkin' about going in there? Are you a mutant?"

                "Yes," she said.

                He grinned. "So am I. I can walk through wooden doors. Kinda useful sometimes in the job I'm in.' he leaned on the edge of the window, watched the stream of people for a little while. "Looks like most people are of our opinion." He observed.

                "What?" Rogue blinked.

                He pointed at a normal-looking couple standing by the lamppost across the street, then at the car parked in front of her, and at a face peeking out of an alley down the street to the left of them. "They been standing there, watching, Not going in, just watching. I went over and talked to the couple over there by the lamppost; they think this guy is nuts. 'If God thinks we should be mutants then we're just tempting fate by trying to undo what He has made of us.' That's what they said, more or less. And they're skeptical. They want to actually see if it works; and so far none's come out who wasn't a human. I think there's something fishy going on; my boss thinks the same thing, that's why I'm here. Just keepin' an eye on things. Were you thinking about going in there?"

                Slowly, Rogue nodded. "Ah have a mutation that drains the life outta anyone Ah touch,' she said quietly. "Ah'm tired o' not bein' able ta touch anyone, even mah boyfriend."

                The policeman looked at her. "That can be hard," he said slowly. "You're a pretty girl. But I don't think the answer is in that building; and neither do these other people who are watching and not going in. If I were you, I'd leave. Nothing for us in there."

                Rogue shook her head. "Ah don't think so either,' she said, starting her car. "Thanks, Officer--"

                "Officer Mark Grayson," the man said, holding out his card. "And you?"

"Marie," Rogue said, smiling as she took it. He smiled back.

"You know, if you ever break up with your boyfriend, or if you just want to talk, look me up. I could use a friend," Officer Grayson said.

                Rogue grinned as she hunted a pen out of her purse and scribbled the mansion's number on it. "Why, Officer," she said, batting her eyelashes and thickening her southern drawl, "Are yah hittin' on me?"

                He laughed. "Yep," he replied, grinning as she took his card. "Is it working?"

                "Might," Rogue grinned flirtatiously, then blew a kiss to him as he stepped back. He waved until she was out of sight, heading away from the clinic.

                Choice made.


	7. Choiceless

Chapter 7: Choiceless

                Bruce sighed and picked up his wineglass. "I am afraid we'll have to implement phase two of Project: Mutant Solution early," he said to the five men sitting around the table in his penthouse office. "My target has not yet come in, and I'm getting impatient."

                Bruce Garrett Senior put his glass down. "Son, are you quite certain you want to do this? It's going to require me to call in every favor with the city police that I have to accomplish this."

                "Of course I'm sure, Dad," Bruce snapped. "Amanda has defied me long enough. And it wasn't like I got the information on her mutant state illegally; an entire airport full of people saw her running around flaunting those things on her back, and flaunting her new husband. Jason here is willing to vouch for my whereabouts, as are the rest of the FOH. Even if someone did listen to her pathetic whining about my excision of her wings, she won't be taken seriously." He sighed. "I can't believe she left me for that big blue monster."

                Bruce, his father, Jason Frank, the Mayor, and one of his father's 'friends' were sitting around the conference table in Bruce's penthouse office, discussing Amanda's non-appearance at the clinic. Bruce had had thousands of visitors; but few of them had actually opted to take the serum; and even fewer mutants survived it. Bruce knew he should hook the mutants to an IV feed, but didn't feel like putting out the extra money for the medical supplies necessary for everyone. He did it only for those mutants whose support he could use later; important, well-connected people who were 'closet mutants', and so 'unimportant' mutants died. No one knew about this; the fourth man at the table was the head of the local crematory; Bruce was paying him a hefty fee to reduce the bodies to ashes.

                He had paid one of the survivors to go on the local news channels and tell everyone that the serum worked. The news had started a new influx of people, but there still weren't as many as Bruce thought there should have been; and no one who walked in matched the descriptions or photos of any of the notorious X-Men. Plan A, which had been to transform one of the X-Men, and then get the location of the X-Men's base so he could get his father's military contacts in to exterminate them and bring Amanda back, had failed. Now on to Plan B.

                "Yes, it's time to implement Plan B," he said. "Mr. Mayor, you will give the speech about the 'Refusal of Medication' law; and then you will tell the city's residents that the law applies to mutants. Anyone who is a known mutant, or looks like one, will have to come to my clinic to receive my 'treatment' for their 'existing medical condition'. If they refuse to come they will be compelled to do so by the city police." Bruce smiled. "Amanda and her husband will have to come in. They are known mutants. And then I will have her."

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Jean picked up the ringing phone early the next morning. Puzzled by who would be calling at eight in the morning, when most of the X-Men were still asleep, she said, "Xavier residence."

                "Marie? Is this Marie?" came an unfamiliar voice. Jean's eyes widened, but she said calmly, "She's still asleep, should I wake her?"

                "Are you a mutant?" came the unexpected, hurried reply. Jean frowned. Curious. "I'm a mutant," said the man on the other end quickly. "And I know she is too. She and I had a talk in front of the Lafayette Street Clinic a couple months ago, when it first started giving out serum. I need to warn her; they are going to force Mutants in the city to take the serum. It's the law now, you have to have treatment for an existing medical condition. There is no more choice. Anyone who resists will be taken into custody. I wanted to tell her to get out of the city. At once. Those of us like me who look normal are pretty safe, but anyone who even looks different is going to be arrested and forced to accept the serum. Please trust me; I'm a cop, and those are my orders. If you're a mutant too, get out of town. Quickly." The phone went dead.

                She turned slowly to Xavier, Scott, and Ororo, sitting t the kitchen table. "Rogue's cop friend just called," she said. "He says mutants are now being compelled to take the serum, as part of some new law that says you have to get treatment for an existing medical condition. We don't have a choice anymore. If we resist, we're going to be arrested. Charles, how could they do this?"

                Xavier shook his head. "I do not know. This violates the first amendment; I will protest this in front of the congressional hearing that has been scheduled for Friday. I have no doubt that others will protest as well; the law will be overturned."

                There was a sudden chime from the air, and then the mansion's security system went off. Xavier quickly left the kitchen and went to the front hall, where he switched on the monitor attached to the camera aimed at the front gates. Two police cars and a van were pulled up by the high iron gates, and an officer was impatiently pushing the buzzer. Charles pushed the intercom on the keypad. "Yes, officer? What can I do for you?"

                "I am sorry to wake you, Mr. Xavier," the man said, his voice not sounding sorry at all. "But I have a warrant here to search your property for Dr. Henry McCoy and his new wife, who are listed as residing here, as well as any other mutants who might be on your premises. If you are a mutant yourself, sir…and we have heard some people who say you are, though some say you are not…you are advised to give yourself over into our custody."

                Xavier's eyes went wide. **Jean, wake everyone up. Scott, Ororo, get Remy, Logan, Betsy, Warren, and Rogue into the lower levels and seal yourselves in. No one knows Jubilee is a mutant, and Jean, you appear normal. Bobby could also pass for human as well. I would send Hank and Amanda with you as well, but the police know they are here; and I would not be able to explain their absence. I can only hope that Amanda's current condition will prevent them from attempting to remove her. She is in enough discomfort already. Go! I will stall them until you are all downstairs.**

                Jean's telepathic call woke everyone. **Everyone wake up! Hurry! The police are arresting any mutants in the mansion. It is essential that they not find all of us. Scott and 'Ro are going down to the sublevels; Charles wants Logan, Remy, Betsy, Warren, and Rogue down there. Hank, you'll have to stay with Amanda; she can't be moved right now. I hope the officers leave you alone. Move it!**

In seconds, she heard pounding footsteps going down the back stairs to the sublevels. Everyone was wide awake. Jubilee had the presence of mind to bring Charles' regular wheelchair down from his room; Xavier had been so intent on protecting them he had forgotten about the hoverchair. He was playing with the controls on the gates; inching them open bit by bit, claiming that the unseasonable cold of the early October had caused the gate mechanisms to freeze. Ororo took the hoverchair into Charles' personal elevator with her on the way downstairs, after assuring him that everyone had turned on the image inducers installed into the floor of their rooms. To the outward eye, it would appear that the rooms were nothing but guest rooms, beds neatly made and waiting for occupants. If the drawers were opened, they would appear empty. Even the toothbrushes were gone, taken by their owners to the sublevels.

                The door to the mansion finally opened, and ten police officers crowded into the foyer. Only two of them had the grace to look flustered when they were greeted by the sight of Charles and Jean in nightclothes. Jubilee chose that moment to descend the stairs, rubbing her eyes and apparently still asleep. 

                "Are you a mutant, Dr. Lee?" the officer who had talked to Charles on the intercom barked roughly. Jubilee shook her head, kept her voice level, and looked him straight in the eye. "No."

                "We had heard that you might be." The officer looked narrow-eyed at Jubilee, but the girl shook her head. 

                "You heard wrong. I'm a research physicist." Jubilee made a face. "I don't know who would think I was  mutant."

                The officer looked at her a moment more, then went on to Jean. Jean replied in the negative, then applied gentle, subtle telekinetic pressure to the man's mind, turning his mind away from suspicion. The man turned to the other officers, ordering half of them to search the upper floors of the mansion, and half to the lower floors. Jean and Jubilee tracked their progress through the house, applying subtle messages and manipulating the men's eyes so that they only saw what they were supposed to see. 

                Hank was sitting by Amanda's bed when three officers burst into their room. "We found them, sir," one man said into his walkie-talkie. The other man, who seemed to be a bit more sympathetic, went over to Amanda's bed. "How are you, Ma'am?" he said kindly.

                "Terrible," Amanda moaned. She was lying on her side in the bed, her enormous stomach supported on a pillow tucked between her knees. She was only five months along, but she looked almost seven due to the size of the child she was carrying. She had almost had a miscarriage twice in the last couple of months; her cervix, due to old scarring, had not been able to contain the weight of the child. Her obstetrician had installed stitches holding the cervix together until the child was developed enough to be safely delivered; and he had ordered her to remain in bed, on complete bed rest. She was miserable; Hank had sworn he would never touch her again, repeatedly and at length.

                "Come on," said the second officer. "We have to get her up. Detective Haver says she has to be taken into custody."

                "No," Amanda moaned, looking at them pleadingly. "My doctor wants me to stay in bed so I don't miscarry, or deliver prematurely. I've already almost delivered twice. Please, don't make me get up."

                The second man shook his head. "Sorry, ma'am, I have orders. Come on, get up."

                Hank held up a hand. "At least let me get her wheelchair." The man hesitated, then nodded, and hank pulled Amanda's extra-wide wheelchair out of the corner. Amanda got up with an effort and managed to hobble to the wheelchair. Her ankles and feet were swollen to almost twice their normal size. She sank down into it, and Hank wheeled her out into the hall and to the elevator that Charles used.

                The floors were smooth, but not perfectly so. Several bumps caused Amanda pain as the weight of her baby fell entirely on her stitched cervix; she moaned in pain. Hank tried to be gentle but some pain was unavoidable, and Charles could tell that he was furious by the time they got up to the front door. The little group was soon joined in the front foyer by the other officers, who reported that there was no one else in the mansion. Detective Haver nodded. "All right then," he said. "Both of them go in the van. Dr. Henry McCoy, Dr. Amanda McCoy, you are hereby under arrest for refusing treatment for your existing medical conditions; i.e., your mutations. You will be taken from here to the police station, where you will be processed, then a doctor from the clinic will come by to give you your injections."

                "We do not wish our mutations reversed," Hank said coldly. "To force us to accept treatment is to violate our constitutional rights to decide our own fates."

                "It's the law now, Mr. McCoy," he said icily. "Get them in the van."

                "Sir, there is no restraint system for the wheelchair in the van. We are going to have to come back with another vehicle, one for handicapped passengers."

                "She's pregnant, not handicapped, Officer Grayson," said Detective Haver roughly. "She will sit in the van, on the bench, like every other mutant freak we've picked up today." And Officer Grayson had no chice but to obey. Charles, Jean, and Jubilee watched as they wheeled her chair outside, then forced her to stand and climb into the van even through her anguished moans and cries of pain. The weight of the child in her stomach rested fully against her stitched cervix when she was finally seated, and Hank moved over behind her to allow her to lean back slightly on her hips to ease the pain of the weight on her pelvic floor. She looked up at Hank, her eyes full of tears. "Hank, why are they doing this to us?" she whimpered.

                Hank kissed her brow. "I don't know, Amanda. Just remember; I am with you. I will do everything I can to ease your discomfort. Save your strength. Here. I brought some of your pills; take one; and it should ease your pain a bit." Amanda took the pill from his hand and slipped it between her lips, swallowing it dry; then she sat back and tried to relax, although the bouncing and jolting of the prison van caused her to cry out in pain more than once. 

                By the time the van pulled up in front of the jail she was crying. Hank alighted first, but when he turned back to help her out of the van, he was pushed back roughly by another officer. Two men stepped into the van to help her out, but were clumsy with her considerable bulk. She slipped on the step coming out, and Hank rushed to her side as she fell to the ground. Other policemen prodded him back with their nightsticks as Amanda climbed slowly to her feet. The two were escorted into the jail by a bevy of officers and taken to the processing desk. Amanda weakly allowed them to take her fingerprints, then they took Hank's. Then officers began to pull them in separate directions. "No!" Amanda struggled weakly. "Please, please let me stay with my husband! Please!"

                The desk sergeant waved to the officers holding Amanda's arms, and he let go. Amanda stumbled the few steps back to his side and clung to his arm, weeping softly. He said. "Put them in a cell together."

                Detective Haver protested. "This is highly irregular…"

                The desk Sergeant interrupted. "It's not going to hurt anything, Haver. The doctor from the clinic will come, inject both of them, and then they'll go home. In the meantime, there's no need for both of them to be uncomfortable. Put them in a cell together."

                The benches in the cells were hard and uncomfortable. The blanket that they gave Hank did little to alleviate the pressing weight of her enormous stomach and aching hips; Amanda moaned that she wanted to go home. Hank gripped her hand, tried to cheer her up, but she was obviously in pain from her fall. Hank slipped her another of her pills, which the officers hadn't seen, and she slipped into a semi-doze. Hank tried to make himself as comfortable as possible where he sat on the floor beside her, and waited.

                It was almost three hours later when he heard footsteps, and then the sound of the cell door sliding back. Hank turned, and froze as he saw who walked in, escorted by two officers.

                It was Bruce Garrett.


	8. Birth

Chapter 8:

                Bruce stared at the enormously pregnant woman lying on the bench, and rage boiled up in his mind, washing his vision with red. His woman was pregnant with the monster's child. She had to be. The mutant freak was standing in front of Amanda in an unmistakably protective stance; and Amanda looked like she was actually trying to hide behind him. He snarled. "Get up," he snarled at her.

                Hank positioned himself in front of Amanda, who didn't move. "She will not. Bruce, this is your doing; I understand you are unhappy with her choice of life partners; but she is free to make her own choice. This whole reverse mutagenic serum has just been a farce to get Amanda back, hasn't it?"

                Bruce gestured to three police officers standing behind him in the doorway of the cell. They entered, and prodded Hank with their nightsticks. Hank growled and stayed where he was. They poked him a little harder. He snarled and refused to move. "Look, mutie," Bruce said. "You either move and give me access to her, or I have the officers use a stun gun on you and I'll still have access to her. The difference is that when I leave, you'll be in so much pain you won't be able to help her get home, and both of you will die without an IV feed. Three of you, really, if you count the freak baby she's carrying."

                Hank considered. Amanda would need him to get her home, then hook her up to an IV feed while her body changed back again. He winced to think of the pain that would entail; but one look at Bruce's grim face convinced him that the man wouldn't hesitate. His obsession was completely out of control. Hank stepped aside, but stayed near enough to grab Bruce if he hurt Amanda. He might go to prison; but Bruce would be dead.

                Bruce stepped up to Amanda, lying still with her eyes closed on the bench. He hadn't been able to see it from where he had been standing by the door; but Amanda's bright iridescent wings drooped over the side of the bench. How had she gotten them back? They must be regenerative. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a syringe and a vial. "Get up, Amanda," he snapped.

                When she didn't respond he grabbed her arm and yanked. 'Get up!" he yelled. Her body shifted on the bench and fell off. Hank cried out in shock and horror, and the other officers were too numb with shock to prevent him from falling to his knees beside her. 

                The bench was stained with her blood, in the area between her thighs. Hank yanked at her jacket, pulling it off, and touched her black skirt. It was soaked with blood. He hadn't even smelled it. As he ran a hand over her swollen abdomen, he felt her skin shudder slightly from the muscular contractions. She was going into labor. "Please!" he said desperately to the watching officers. "She is going into labor; she's only five months along; she needs to go to a hospital! Please!"

*                                                              *                                                              *

                The doctor at the hospital took Hank up to Labor and Delivery, talking as they hurried along the halls, flanked by Bruce and four police officers. "The fall from the police van ripped the stitches out of her cervix, that's where the bleeding came from," he explained. "She must have been feeling the contractions almost immediately; I found some painkillers in her system, which I assume you gave her--" Hank pulled the bottle of pills from his pocket and shoved it at the doctor. The doctor took it, nodded briefly, and shoved it into his own pocket. "She's already almost three centimeters dilated, due to the weight of the baby on her pelvic floor. I can't stop it; I'm sorry. The baby's almost eight pounds; he should have a fairly good chance at life. All we can do from here is let her deliver the child, and hope for the best. Come in here. We've put her in a delivery room and we're trying to get her to rest; she has a long hard delivery ahead, considering her size and the child's size, but I don't want to do a C-section unless it's absolutely necessary. I explained that to her, and she understands, but she said she won't rest until she sees you." He turned to the policemen and Bruce. "You all stay out here. This is a delivery room; no one's going to be escaping from it. Stay out." The officers obediently stopped by the door. Bruce made a motion to go in, but the doctor stopped him. "You stay out too. Only the father's allowed in." Bruce stopped short, stunned, and the door swung closed on his surprised face.

                Amanda held out a hand weakly to Hank as he sat down in a chair a nurse pulled up for him. "Hank," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't want the baby to come so early. Oh, God, Hank what will we do if--"

                He gripped her hand firmly. "Do not think about it, Amanda. The doctor says he is a good eight pounds already; he has a good chance at life. Do not worry about anything, beloved; everything will be all right." She looked at him with eyes full of love, and he kissed her knuckles as he held her hand.

                "We're having a boy?" her eyes were full of tears. He nodded. "I hoped for a boy," she said softly. "I know you said you wanted to wait until the baby was born, but the doctor told you, I guess." She hissed a breath through her teeth as another contraction came and went, then said, "We'll name him Henry? After you?"

                He nodded. "If that is what you want, beloved."

                "Bruce," she whispered, and her eyes filled with fear. "Hank, where is he? He's not going to--" she stopped, because he was shaking his head. 

"The doctor insisted that he remain outside, beloved," he said to her, pushing a stray lock of silver hair off her forehead. "He will not hurt you here; or our child."

She nodded, and clenched her teeth as another contraction rippled through her belly. A nurse came forward. 'It's going to be a while," she said sympathetically. "Why don't you go and grab a bite, maybe call relatives or something?  We're going to give her something to help her relax. She's going to sleep for a few hours before the next stage begins." Hank stood and left the room quietly as Amanda fell asleep.

Outside, Bruce shot upright as he saw Hank come out of the room. With the police offices standing right there, he couldn't do anything but snarl at Hank. "I hope you're happy with what you did, monster!" he snapped. "When this is over she'll come crawling back to me, just like she always did whenever she tried to leave."

Hank turned on Bruce. "I am no monster, Bruce," he said quietly. "I have never done anything but love her. You were the monster. It is because of you that this is happening; her cervix was so traumatized by what you did to her that it was incapable of staying closed to carry a child. Stitches were inserted to keep it closed this long; when she fell getting out of the prison van the stitches opened. Bruce, if the child dies it will be your fault. Think about that." Hank turned away and said to the police officer, "I am going down the hall to use the telephone to call a friend of ours to inform them of the incipient birth. I shall not try to escape; my wife is in there having my child. Do you wish to accompany me anyway?"

One officer followed him down the hall.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Hank was dozing, catching up on his sleep as Amanda slept. He woke abruptly as Amanda's body convulsed, and shot to his feet as one of the machines started beeping. His eyes followed the beeping from the machine down the wires attached to it until he saw they were attached to the flat fetal monitor discs on her swollen belly. "Doctor!" He hit the switch on the wall that would call for a doctor. He wasn't an obstetrician; he didn't know what the beeping meant, but it couldn't be good.

                Seconds later, the door burst in, and Amanda's regular obstetrician came in, followed by three nurses. "Fetal heartbeat is dangerously low. This baby's got to come out now!" He went down to the business end of the bed, and dropped the lower half of the bed as a nurse injected something into Amanda's IV. A minute later, she was alert.

                Hank felt helpless. He returned to the top of the bed, reaching for Amanda's hand as her eyes fluttered open. "Hank…what…she murmured in befuddlement, still groggy from the drugs.

                "It is time, beloved," he said, bending over her.

                Amanda groaned in relief. "Thank god. Oh, jeez, Hank, I hurt--" and she gripped his hand tightly as another contraction rippled over her swollen belly. The doctor placed her feet in the stirrups on the bed, and pressed two fingers into her body. 

                "Eight centimeters. You're doing good, Amanda. Try to stay calm; we've given you something to increase the rate of your contractions. The anesthesiologist is on his way; we'll give you something for the pain in a bit." Amanda cried out as another contraction began. "At the end of this contraction I'm going to break your water. Breathe, Amanda."

                Hank began to breathe with her, partly to help her and partly to alleviate his own panic. The machine hadn't stopped beeping; it was, in fact, becoming louder. Amanda waited till the next contraction passed, then said, "Hank, that beeping. What is it?"

                The doctor said quickly, "It's just a monitor telling us it's close to your time. Now you're going to feel all that water coming out in a minute, but it won't hurt. Breathe in--" Amanda did, and suddenly felt a rush of fluids come out between her legs. The next contraction, coming a few moments later, felt like it was going to rip her apart, and she screamed in pain. The doctor said encouragingly, "You're doing good, almost time to push, come on, don't fight it…"

                Amanda was beyond listening to him. All she could focus on was the agony on her body. She screamed again, tears streaming from her eyes. The doctor said something to a nurse, and she ran out of the room.

                Hank grabbed Amanda's other hand, tears filling his own eyes as he heard her scream. He had known, on an intellectual level, that childbirth involved pain. He'd seen specials on the Discovery Channel of women giving birth. None of those documentaries helped now, as he watched his wife scream in agony as she tried to give birth to his son. Through his mind ran a list of all the things that could go wrong; and the list terrified him. _I'll never touch her again,_ he vowed.

                **Yes you will,** came two voices in unison in his head. Hank froze. _Charles? Jean?_

                **Right here,** came Charles' voice. **I'm waiting outside here with Jean. We'll be with you, don't worry. The doctors know what they're doing.**

Hank could almost hear Jean's laughter as she said, **After the baby's born Amanda will look at you and say, 'When do you want the next one'?**

Hank snorted mentally. _She's not stupid. Why would she do that?_

Jean laughed again. **Childbirth is a wonderful thing, Hank. It hurts like hell, but it's a wonderful thing. You'll feel differently when you're holding your child.**

Hank couldn't respond to that, because Amanda was screaming again as her muscles contracted. And suddenly Hank could see the lump in Amanda's belly moving. The doctor saw it too. He slid two fingers into Amanda's body again, then said, "Ten centimeters! Time to push!" Nurses pulled handles out from under the bed for Amanda to hold on to as another doctor ran in. 

"Oh, my," he said. He began readying all sorts of instruments, then picked up a needle as thick as a regular pencil lead. Hank's eyes bulged as he slid the needle into Amanda's back. It looked like it hurt; but Amanda didn't even blink. It injected its load into her spine, then he withdrew the needle. "The epidural," he said to Hank. "She should start feeling more comfortable now." And indeed Amanda did.

Another contraction rippled through her body, but she just moaned, she didn't scream. The anesthesiologist nodded and bustled off, as the doctor at the end of Amanda's bed said, "all right, Amanda…push!"

The next hour or so passed in a blur for Hank. He only vaguely remembered holding her hand, encouraging her to push, hearing her groan as she did. He only vaguely remembered hearing her scream out, but everything snapped back into sharp focus as a wet, bulky little bundle slid out into the doctor's hands. The baby took a deep breath, opened its tiny puckered mouth, and let out a lusty little wail as it took its first breath. The doctor clipped the cord and handed it to a nurse, who suctioned its nose and mouth, then wrapped it in a blanket as they took its vitals. "He's perfect for being four months premature," said the nurse. "Eight pounds ten ounces, everything in the right place, everything working. Doctor, do you think it's necessary to put him in the incubator?" At that, the little baby boy threw back his head and let out a lusty howl.

The doctor smiled. "Maybe in a little bit, just as a precaution," he said as he finished cleaning Amanda off and putting his instruments away. "Why don't you let the parents have some time with their new little bundle?"

Hank stared in disbelief as the little bundle was put into Amanda's arms. Little Henry, despite what his parents looked like, was a perfectly normal, healthy, pink baby. "Congratulations," Amanda whispered, tears shining in her eyes. "It's a boy. Little Henry James McCoy."

"I love you," Hank said, and leaned over to wrap Amanda and their new son in his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Welcome to the world, Henry." He kissed the little head.


	9. Goodbye Bruce!

Chapter 9:

                Bruce stepped into the room. The police didn't try to stop him; and no one noticed him as he walked in. He stared incredulously at the little baby in Amanda's arms, and then at hank, who was cooing at the tiny infant. 

                "Want to hold him, Charles?" Amanda said quietly. Xavier looked a bit apprehensive, but nodded. He took the child awkwardly, as if afraid he might drop it, but Jean giggled at him gently and readjusted his grip. The baby waved its tiny fists in the air, gave a yawn, and settled in to sleep. Amanda lay back weakly in bed, tired but happy, until she saw Bruce.

                She started to struggle upright, heedless of the sharp pains coming from her sore lower parts. "Bruce!" she cried. "Bruce, please…"

                Bruce stared at the infant in Charles' arms. "That should have been mine, Amanda," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "I tried to get you pregnant so many times; you told me once that you couldn't get pregnant. You lied. You just didn't want my child!" He raised the syringe. 'I'll just make sure that the baby won't become one of you freaks--"

                Charles began to scoot his wheelchair backwards, away from Bruce, but he knew he was too slow…

                Jean slammed down a tight telekinetic shield around Charles, herself, and the baby. Bruce tried to get through it, but kept bouncing off it, foiled by her shield. With a sudden motion, he turned and lunged for Amanda. Hank got between them, positioning himself beside Amanda's bed. In a sudden fit of Rage, Bruce drove the syringe into Hank's arm and emptied it into him.

                Hank stared in horror at the injection site. "Bruce, what have you done!?" Amanda cried in shock. "Oh, God, Hank, please…don't die. Go home…get hooked to an IV feed before you die…Bruce!" Amanda wailed in anguish. "Please. Do anything you want with me, but leave my friends and my baby alone!" She started to babble frantically. "I'll go with you. I'll do anything. Please, I'll do anything you want me to do if you just leave them alone!"

                "Anything?" Bruce paused in the act of refilling the needle.

                "Anything!" Amanda cried feverishly.

                "Hold out your arm. I'm going to inject you, and then you're going to go home with me. You'll marry me like we were supposed to after you get a divorce from your mutie husband over here."

                "But my baby?" Amanda wailed. "My baby, please, Bruce…"

                "I'm sure they'll take care of him. Or not. Maybe they don't care as much about you as you think,. eh?" Bruce snapped, "Hold out your arm."

                "How do I know you won't break your word?"

                "Bruce smiled. "All this has just been to get you back, my dear. Yes, the serum does work; but I really don't have a great deal of it. I don't need it anymore now that I have what I want; you."

                "Why?" Amanda's face looked stricken. 'Why all this just for me?"

                "Don't you get it yet, Amanda? You are mine. I never let anyone take what's mine. You humiliated me when you left. You know how embarrassing it was to have to explain to everyone that my engagement has been broken because you ran away? Well, you're coming back with me, and we're getting married like we were supposed to. And once we're married, I'll own you. My father has an estate in the Middle East; I'll take you there. Women are basically property there, Amanda; I can do whatever I want to do to you." He sneered at her.

                "Bruce…no," Amanda's face looked stricken.

                "Of course, if you refuse, I can always have the rest of your husband's and your friends brought to my clinic and forcibly injected--"

                "No," Amanda moaned. "Anything but that. I'll do anything to prevent that. All right, you have a deal." She held out her arm. 

                "Don't!" Jean cried from inside the shield. "Amanda, don't do it, we can find a way to keep him away from you…" But Bruce took a step forward and jammed the needle into her arm. Amanda tensed as the engineered virus was injected into her body, and looked pleadingly at Hank. 'Hank, go home, please go home, before you die…if you die no one will be there for our little boy, please, Hank. I'll be fine."

                Charles said firmly, **Hank, go home. Take care of yourself. The hospital staff won't let him touch the baby; and we will find Amanda, wherever Bruce takes her. He cannot hide her from us. We'll bring her back. But you have to stay healthy for the child.**

                **She can't be moved yet, anyway,** Jean told him. **The hospital doesn't discharge new mothers before twenty-four hours.**

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Bruce made a few calls once visiting hours were over, then ran home for a quick change. Arriving back at the hospital, he walked up to the nurses' station and said, 'I have a transfer order here for the patient in room 504. Her husband wants to have her transferred to a private care facility." He handed the forged documents to the desk nurse, who nodded and sent a couple of nurses after him into the room.

                Bruce was stunned when he walked in. The serum should have started working an hour after he injected it; she should be in agony now. Instead she was sleeping. Why wasn't it working? Oh well. He would be able to figure out that little problem at his leisure later. The nurses got her off the bed and strapped into the bed that Bruce had brought with a minimum of fuss, after Bruce injected her with a sedative that would keep her asleep while they went to the 'private care facility' that he'd set up for her. She would be surprised when she saw it.

                He loaded her bed onto the van marked 'Garrett Private Care' and then got into the driver's seat, closing the door. He breathed a sigh of relief as his van turned out of the hospital's receiving and loading dock, and drove off through the darkened city streets. They couldn't trace him now.

                Amanda woke as a bright light shone in her eyes. Her lower body was a mass of pain, her muscles sore from the contractions, and hurting from the stitches the doctor had put in to close the tears in her the baby had made. The light was too bright; all she wanted was to go back to sleep.

                It didn't look like it was going to be an option. The light refused to go away. She batted at the source, then was jolted out of her semi-doze by a harsh voice. Bruce's voice. "Wake up, Amanda!"

                She opened her eyes, blinked. She was in some kind of room, lying on a bed. It was cold, too. She tried to reach down to pull a blanket over herself, but found her wrists caught in restraints. She looked up. "Bruce?" she tried to sit up, but found herself unable to do so by the strap over her still-swollen belly. "Bruce, where am I?"

                "You're in my home," he said. "I told the hospital you were being transferred; then I brought you here. It seems I have a little problem." He leaned against a nearby table. "I injected you with the reengineered virus. It didn't react well with the original sample of the virus in your system. In fact, it didn't work at all. The engineered version that was supposed to turn you back into a human shriveled up and died. The original virus killed it." He crossed his arms. "I thought about attempting to remove all the original virus from your body; but the technology doesn't exist that will allow me to cleanse every cell in your body. And as long as even one microscopic bit of the original virus is still in your system the reengineered virus won't work." He leaned in. "You know what that means? I'm stuck with a horrible freak."

                Amanda struggled against her bonds, ignoring the pain in her body. "You're not stuck," she whispered. 'You can let me go. I promise, I won't tell the police. I won't tell anyone."

                "Except your freak husband. No, I'm not letting you go. Did you know that there are people out there, humans, who collect mutants? A friend of mine, in particular, likes exotic-looking mutants with no real powers. I think you're exotic enough. How about becoming someone's mutant pet, eh, Amanda?"

                Amanda yanked futilely at her bonds, then lay back, exhausted. "I thought you wanted me."

                "Oh, you might belong to him, but I'll get to have you too. Whenever I want you. And it will be so much fun seeing you in that cage." Bruce smiled unpleasantly. 'Or I'll just keep you in a cage here and make you my pet. Yes, I think that'll do nicely."

                A trickle of ice water ran down Amanda's spine.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Hank disconnected the IV feed. It had been six hours since he had been injected by the engineered virus; and it wasn't doing anything. He slipped a needle in under his skin, drew a sample of his own blood, and looked at it under a microscope. Nothing.

                Bruce's virus didn't work. Not on him, anyway. Possibly due to the experiment done a long time ago, that had caused him to grow that blue fur; he'd check that later. He was relieved. He had grown attached to his appearance; he didn't mind being big blue and furry anymore. And Amanda didn't care.

                He checked the clock. Eight in the morning. Amanda should be awake in her room now; he would call her and tell her. But first…

                He drew more of his blood, dropped it into the plasma synthesizer, and set it to make a liter of exactly matching plasma. He would inject it into the rest of the X-Men so that Bruce's virus wouldn't work on them…but thatr was for later. For now, he would call Amanda.

                "Room 504, please," he said to the switchboard operator.

                "I'm sorry, sir, there is no patient in room 504."

                "What?" Hank was puzzled. Amanda was supposed to be there. Had they transferred her to another room? "I'm trying to reach a patient there, Amanda McCoy. I'm her husband."

                "Oh, she's been transferred to the private care facility as you requested," the woman said cheerfully.

                "I did not ask for any transfer," Hank said angrily. "Who signed the papers? And when was she taken?"

                The woman must have realized something was wrong, and she sobered quickly. 'The transfer took place last night. The papers were signed by Dr. Garrett, of the 'Garrett Private Care home'. Sir, your name was on the paperwork too."

                Hank was angry. "Check the signature on the transfer document with the release forms I signed for my wife's medications," he snapped. "Or better yet, I shall come down there immediately and give you my own handwriting sample. I will call the police immediately; they shall be down there. We must find my wife. Her life is in danger!"

                The hospital staff was full of apologies when Hank arrived, but he would have none of it. The police had already compared Hank's writing on Amanda's medical consent forms with the writing on the forged transfer documents, and found them to be different. The nurse who had been on duty was suspended for not comparing the signatures; but that was the least of Hank's concerns. His every instinct was screaming that Amanda was in danger; and his instincts were very seldom wrong.

                "Here," Jean broke in suddenly, where she had been perusing the documents. "There's an address given here for the 'Garrett Private Care' facility. I wonder if Bruce actually has Amanda at that location; I can't believe he'd be that stupid…but everyone makes mistakes."

                The policeman nodded. "Come on. We'll escort you there."

                The building looked dilapidated, run-down and beat-up. The police officer got out of his car. "This must have been a misdirection," he said, shaking his head. "There couldn't possibly--"

                "There!" Jean suddenly cried, pointing to a second-floor window. "He's up there!" Bruce was looking down out of the grimy window at them with an expression of disbelief. As soon as he realized he had been seen, he disappeared from the window.

                "You, over there!" The officer directed two others down the narrow alley running across the back of the building. "The rest of you, come with me!" Scott nodded to Jean, and he and Ororo ran up the back alley; Hank and Jean followed the first officer in, with a final injunction to all of them not to use their powers. Mutants were still being rounded up by the police.

                They heard the pounding of footfalls across the ceiling as they ran in. The police took the stairs up, two at a time, with Hank and Jean not far behind. They almost ran straight into Bruce Garrett at the top of the stairs; he turned and started running the other way. They pursued him.

                In the alley at the back of the building, Scott looked up at the sound of shouts. Bruce Garret, not realizing that police were waiting for him in the alley too, was climbing out the window onto the fire escape.

                "Hold it right there!" yelled one of the officers. Bruce's head whipped around in startlement, and he lost his footing on the rain-slick metal ladder. He started to fall; and twisted his body desperately to grab one of the rungs. His silk tie caught between two of the sliding slats of the escape ladder before his hands could find a secure grip; and the snap of his neck was loud in the suddenly silent alley. Ororo hid her face in her hands; and Scott flinched.

                Amanda heard footsteps. "Amanda! Amanda, are you here?"

                Hank!" She started to struggle again. "Hank, I'm in here! Help! In here!" The door burst open, and She nearly cried in relief as she saw Hank, standing in the doorway. Jean yanked at the straps on her hands, and Hank unbuckled the ones on her upper boidy, then, weeping in relief, he pulled her up to his chest and buried his face in her hair. "Amanda, oh Amanda," he whispered. 'I'm so sorry…"

                She was weeping too. "Hank," she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. "I was so scared…Bruce, where is he…"

                "Don't worry," Hank drew her back into his embrace. "He'll never touch you again." Into his mind floated the images that Scott was seeing, and sending via Jean; the officers were cutting Bruce down from the escape ladder.

                There would definitely be a closed casket at his funeral.


	10. First Amendment Rights

Chapter 10:

                "Whoops!" 

                Jean started to laugh hysterically as she telekinetically dropped a dry washcloth over little Henry's upper legs. Amanda spluttered as Jean laughed and Henry gurgled, then grabbed another cloth and wiped at the spreading wet patch on the front of her shirt. "Jean, it's not funny!"

                Jean just laughed harder, and rolled over on her side on the bed and held her sides as Amanda glared at her in mock anger. Finally she sat up, wiped her eyes, and handed Amanda a clean diaper. Amanda gave Jean another mock glare as she slid the diaper under the little butt. Then she whipped the cloth off the boy's upper legs and immediately dropped the front of the diaper down, fastening the tabs. She snapped up the front of the little jumper and picked him up, bouncing him a little as she brought him over to the bed. She put him down on his tummy, patted his behind, and said, "Go and see your Aunt Jean now. Mommy has to clean up." Jean picked him up and cooed at him as Amanda turned, using the cloth to wipe up the puddle on the changing table.  

                She walked through the adjoining doorway into hers and Hank's room. Little Henry's nursery had been set up in her old room, because the adjoining door had been much handier for her to get up and go to him in the middle of the night without waking anyone up. Hank had woken up at first every time Amanda got up; but he'd gradually gotten used to it, and now slept through the midnight feedings.

                Not that there were many of them. Henry was an amazingly easy baby to take care of, in stark contrast to all of Amanda's problems while she was pregnant. He went to sleep around nine in the evening and didn't wake up until seven in the morning. Rarely did he wake up for a midnight feeding. In the four months since Amanda and Hank had brought him home from the hospital, she'd only woken up six times for early morning feedings. 

                Hank came in, holding a page of the newspaper out to Amanda, who was in the act of removing the wet shirt. "He got you again?" When Amanda nodded ruefully, Hank chuckled. "He will grow out of it, beloved. Eventually." He hugged her briefly, then she tugged at the newspaper page as Jean came out of the nursery holding the baby. He saw Hank and stretched out his arms, gurgling happily, and Hank smiled, handing Amanda the page as he took his son out of Jean's arms. He swung the baby high in the air, then tossed him a short way up in the air, making Henry laugh. Jean went over to Amanda's side to look at the newspaper page.

                 She was looking at a picture of Bruce Garrett Senior. The article's caption read, _New Law Declared Unconstitutional; Violates First Amendment Rights_. Amanda read the article aloud.

                "Noted mutant expert Charles Xavier spearheaded a massive protest against the new city law which declared that a mutant must seek treatment for their mutations. He declared that not only was the law unconstitutional, in that it denied the individual the right to choose whether or not to actually receive treatment, but that the treatment offered by the recently deceased Bruce Garrett Junior did not work. A search of the clinic run by the younger Garrett where he was supposedly reverse transforming mutants revealed a cellar full of bodies of people who had not survived the procedure. The discovery has sparked massive protest against the procedure by both civilians and city, state and federal personnel…"

                Amanda stared at Hank, wide-eyed. "You mean Bruce was killing them? My God…I'm glad he's gone."

                Hank smiled at her, then planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "Bruce's father is going to be quite busy the next few years attempting to handle the lawsuits being filed against him by relatives of the deceased. It's not going to be pretty. But the law has been repealed, and we're all safe." He tossed the little boy up in the air again, and Henry squealed with laughter as he found himself flying. Amanda dropped the paper and turned to her husband and child, and Jean picked it up and slipped unnoticed out of the room.

                Scott was lying in bed, reading a book, when Jean came in. She stretched out on the bed next to him, reading the page over his shoulder for a moment before leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Got some good news," she said.

                Scott put the book down and wrapped his arms around her. "What's up?"

                ""They've repealed that stupid law. You don't have to worry about hiding anymore. Hank just brought the paper in, and they found the bodies of the people Bruce was supposed to be helping in the cellar of the clinic. The world is safe for mutants again."

                "Mmmm…" Scott kissed her. "So why don't we try to bring our own little mutant into the world?" He rolled over, pulling Jean on top of him. Jean giggled, straddling him, and leaned down to kiss him…

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Rogue looked up from the café table as the man walked up. She smiled and patted the chair beside her. "Hey," she said.

                "Hey," Mark Grayson said, sitting down on the chair with his cup of coffee. "So it's safe to come out now, I hear."

                Rogue laughed. "Yeah, thanks ta then repealin' that stupid law," she said. "It's about time, to. Ah wanted tah see yah."

                "What about your " Mark's voice dropped significantly, "boyfriend?"

                Rogue waved a hand. "Ah'm not heah 'cause Ah wanted a boyfriend, Ah'm heah 'cause I jus' wanted a frien'. Ah thought maybe ya could use one too."

                Mark looked at her, and smiled. "Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah, I could use one too." He took a sip of his coffee.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                That's it for 'Forced Mutations'.

                I am pretty much all out of ideas for this set of stories, though I'm sure certain of your imaginations are working overtime on a continuance. I did leave it open; if anyone reading this out there wants to pick up where I left off, go ahead. I'm thinking about a spin-off with Rogue and Remy and Mark Grayson…but if I do it will be quite a long time in the future.

                My attention right now is finishing the 'Secrets and Shadows' storyline (yes, I hear people going yay out there). My next story is going to be the long-awaited sequel to 'Flames'. It's titled 'Fire and Ice' and you can probably guess by that title which X-Man is next in line for my particular trip into hell and back! 

                My other project is now under way; I'm trying my hand at writing a full-length X-Men novel. So far the rough draft is four chapters and thirty pages, and it's getting longer. When I do get it posted, it won't be on ff.net; I'm going to post it exclusively on a friend/fellow author/regular reviewer's (Felidae's) website as soon as she tells me she has it up. Don't worry; I will put up or send out notices to all my regular reviewers telling them when it goes up and where. It stars Logan, for all you Wolverine fans out there; any other details you have to wait for. 

                So what did you all think? I did get an email saying Bruce's death was rather anticlimactic (getting hanged by his tie was a bit melodramatic, but it just seemed appropriate to me, so I didn't change it) but overall I was rather pleased with the way it turned out. There are loose ends to tie up; Magneto, for one. But I'm just about out of ideas for this, so if anyone out there wants to pick up where I left off, feel free. I hope I see some of you for 'Fire and Ice', going up after the last chapter of Secrets and Shadows; but if I don't, I hope you all enjoyed the ride!

Sincerely,

Jaenelle Angelline


End file.
